Below the Skin
by gay.panic97
Summary: Based off a prompt from a friend. AU, no magic. Regina is Henry's teacher, and Emma is a struggling single mother with an unconventional job. When the two meet, sparks fly-and not the good kind. Well, not all the good kind. ;) Hope you enjoy. If you do, drop me a review. If you don't, we don't have to talk about it. Just kidding. I accept and encourage respectful criticism.
1. Chapter 1

_This comes from a prompt sent to me. Regina is a teacher, Emma's a single mother trying to get by, and Henry's wonderful, funny, smart ass Henry. The two women come from very different backgrounds with vastly different lives. What happens when those lives collide? Will they see past their differences to realize that they've got more in common under the surface? You're just going to have to read to find out. ;)_

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From outside the hall, Regina Mills can hear a low chatter of voices drawing from classroom 204, and she smooths out her blouse as she comes closer to the door. The moment she enters the classroom, the voices all drop to nearly inaudible, and she smiles slightly at this. She is a loved teacher, but she is also a respected one. Her students know she likes to make their learning experience positive and fun, but they also know that she doesn't like to waste her time, and she rarely repeats herself. She has never raised her voice with any of her students before, but she's never had to, either. When her dark brown eyes sharpen and her lips purse tightly, it accomplishes more than shouting ever could. She controls the classroom, and if her students behave and cooperate, it is a lighthearted, enjoyable ninety minutes. If not, well, they'll still learn, but it won't be nearly as fun.

"Good afternoon, class," she says to them and receives an off-kilter response "good afternoon, Ms. Mills." It's her final class before the day ends and usually her best one. While her students are usually tired and ready to be done with the day by then, they are some of her best, most respectful students, barring a few exceptions. Typically, she can loosen up more with this class and joke around with them more. They listen and do what is asked of them, and so she trust them with certain freedoms, like, for instance, an open seating chart, and even limited use of cell phones. She even allows them to listen to music while they are working independently. It's a good class, and she hopes it remains that way today. Because today, three weeks into the fall semester, she has a new student.

It's the first transfer student Storybrooke Middle School has had in eons, and she had spent most of her lunch going over the new student's transcript. Henry Swan, a twelve-year-old boy from an inner-city school in Boston. His grades are all stellar. Straight A's since first grade. A sparkling attendance record. His previous teachers all left notes on his report cards of what a brilliant, good-natured student he was, never causing trouble in class. However, as she dove further into his file, she'd found that there is a blemish on his record. A rather large, imposing blemish that concerns her. Fighting. It had been a problem for the past three years according to his previous principal. He'd been sent to detention and suspended on numerous occasions for it and nearly expelled once. Regina can't understand that. How can this boy who seemed to be such an exquisite, gifted student as well as good kid also have such a tendency for violence? It doesn't make any sense to her, and she knows there must be more to the story than what the transcript provides.

She moves to her desk and goes down the roll as she does at the start of every class, marking those absent without raising her eyes from the paper.

"Henry Swan?" she calls out the new name.

"Here." The voice draws her eyes upward, and she looks at the boy seated near the middle of the class. His brown hair is cut short and combed neatly, and hazel eyes glimmer as he offers her a small, nervous smile. She notices how his leg is bouncing under the desk, and she knows he wants to make a good impression. So, she smiles back at him warmly. "Welcome to our class, Mr. Swan. It's a pleasure to have you with us."

He brightens under the attention, his smile beaming, and her heart softens at the sight. She can immediately understand why his teachers described him as being such a joy in class-those dimples are irresistible. How can this adorable boy be the same so prone to fights? "Thanks. It's good to be here. And you can just call me Henry, not Mr. Swan."

She smirks. "Alright then, Henry." She moves on down the roll until those present, almost all her students but a few, are accounted for. Then, she begins their lesson for the day.

"I trust you all did your reading?" she questions as she strides to the front of the room. She holds up her copy of _Oliver Twist_ , and those who didn't already have the book out retrieve it from their bags. She notices Violet Summers, seated beside Henry, hold her book open for the both of them to reference, and smiles at his red ears as he leans closer to her and murmurs a quiet "thanks." "You should have finished the final two chapters last night. So, since I'm sure you all did as I asked and read it carefully, can anyone inform me of the main theme of the book?"

The classroom remains silent as every student intentionally avoids eye contact, and the corners of her lips pull down as her patience thins. She knows that at least some of her students must have read the book, but not one hand raises to answer.

"Come on. Someone must have at least a guess." Again, no response, and she sighs in annoyance. Just as she is about to issue a pop quiz to test if they'd actually read or not, a hand raises, and she is shocked to find that it belongs to the one student who had an excuse not to have an answer.

"Yes, Henry?" she says, and he straightens up in his desk a bit.

"The main theme of the book is good vs. evil," he answers with a confidence that makes her eyebrows raise. "Most of the characters are written kind of flat because they're meant to be a black-and-white representation of morality. No gray. Just good and bad. Like, Oliver is totally good, but Fagin is totally bad. The book is supposed to show that the good guy, even though he's just a poor kid without a family, always beats the bad guy."

Regina blinks in surprise. "Well, that is very insightful." A perfect answer, actually. "And do you agree with Charles Dickens' decision to write the characters that way?"

He smirks at her. "Are you asking a seventh grader to critique Charles Dickens on writing?"

She chuckles. "Perhaps, but you do seem to have an opinion on it."

He shrugs. "I mean, I like a good underdog story as much as anyone else, and I like the happy ending. But I do think that making the characters either strictly good or bad makes them a little... boring." He frowns at himself. "No, that's not what I mean. They're not boring. They're just not realistic. Nobody's all good or all bad. People are both, and they're not born heroes or villains. I guess I think it could've been nice to see some conflict within the characters. And I would've liked to have had some backstory on Fagin to know why he is such a bad person. He couldn't have just been born that way." Oh, he's got to be her new favorite student. Not that she displays favoritism, of course.

Regina nods her head. "Yes. Evil is made, not born, and so is good." She grins at him. "Very well-thought out response, Henry. Did you read this at your old school already?"

He shakes his head. "No, my mom and I read it. She collects books all the time, and we read them. Like a book club, kind of. She likes this one a lot."

"Well, since Henry has so eloquently pointed out the main theme, we can move onto the essay for the day." She turns to the white board and writes on it as she speaks. "Supporting your argument with direct quotes and examples from the book, give me at least three instances of symbolism and what you think they mean. And, yes, before you ask, this will be turned in for a grade." She looks back over her shoulder at Henry with a smile. "And since you've read it already, I'll expect an essay from you too, Henry."

He grins, opening his notebook up and brandishing his pen like a sword. "Yes ma'am."

After all the essays are turned into her, Regina uses the last quarter of class to introduce and pass out copies of their next assigned novel. She notices how Henry smirks down at the cover of the book when he receives his and wonders if he hasn't read this one as well. The final bell rings, and her students are scrambling for the door.

"Read the first two chapters tonight and be ready to discuss tomorrow," she calls out. "Henry?" He looks up from where he is zipping his bag up. "Could I have a word?"

"Sure." He slings his back pack over his shoulder and bids Violet a shy goodbye before walking up to her desk. She gestures to the chair across from her, and he drops into it.

"I just wanted to take a minute to formally welcome you to the class," she says. "I can already tell I'll enjoy having you as a student." He smiles. "Your transcript from your old school shows that you are a good student. Your grades are impressives, and your former teachers all speak very highly of you." She frowns slightly. "However, I would like to address some remarks about your behavior outside of the classroom."

His face falls, and he sighs with sagging shoulders. "Yeah, I figured. All my teachers have already. Look, I know it sounds bad, and I won't lie. I got into fights a lot at my old school back in Boston. I'm not trying to excuse that away-I'm as guilty for not walking away when I could've. But it usually happened because of bullies. The other guys were all bigger than me, and I was one of the, um, poorer kids in my class. At first, it was just about that, but over the past year, they targeted me for... other reasons."

Regina furrows her brow in concern. "What other reasons, Henry?" He looks at her uncertainly, and she places a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing you say will leave this room, Henry. You can trust me, I promise."

He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Well, see, it's just me and my mom. I never met my dad before-he walked out before I was born." Regina's jaw tightens. She knows kids can be cruel, and it doesn't surprise her that bullies would target him from being from a lower-class, single-parent home. It still pisses her off, though. "But then my mom-well, she doesn't look like most moms, you know what I mean?" She shakes her head in confusion. "She had me young. Really young. She's not even thirty yet, and she's-" he screws his face up- "she's pretty. We had a dance at my last school, and she had the night off, so she volunteered to chaperone. Not because she wanted to, but because she usually works too much to be really active in my school. I think she was guilty. Anyway, she wore a dress and heels there, and when the other guys saw her..." He sighs. "Well, then I became the smaller, poor kid without a dad and hot mom." He clenches his hands into fists. "They said stuff about her around me just to get me mad and picked fights with me every day. I knew I should've have taken their bait, but it was really hard to walk away when they were talking about my own mom like that. We're close, she and I, and it just... it's the one thing they figured out they could pick on me about that would always make me mad enough to respond."

She frowns. "Henry, I am so sorry you had to go through all that." Clearly, it still upset him, and she couldn't imagine how hard going through it must've been.

"I know what my record makes me look like," he says, looking back at her with wide eyes begging to be understood, "but I'm not a bad kid, Ms. Mills. I really like school, and I swear that I'll be the best student you've got. I know you've probably already made your mind up about me like all the other teachers, but I hope you can give me a chance to change your opinion."

She smiles at him. "Henry, I'd never let something so one-dimensional as a transcript influence my opinion of you. I'm not so prejudiced, I assure you. I know that you're a good boy-I could tell as soon as I saw you. You don't have to work for my approval-I already like you." His eyes brighten. "How about we make a deal? I promise to do all that I can to ensure you won't be bothered by any bullies if you promise to avoid any fights they might try to start. Deal?" She holds a hand out to him in offer, and he grins as he shakes it.

"Deal," he nods. "Thanks, Ms. Mills. I'm really glad you're my teacher."

"As am I. Now, go on home before your mother gets worried. And make sure you do your homework."

Standing to his feet, he salutes her as he walks backwards out of the classroom. "Yes ma'am, Ms. Mills." Throwing her a cheeky wink, he leaves the classroom. Regina smiles to herself, shaking her head. Her favorite class just got a lot better.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma Swan's alarm goes off at six in the morning, and she groans at the intrusive sound. She slaps her palm down on it and lays there in her bed-the new one in the new apartment in the new town-for a few minutes. She tries to recall the dream she had been having-it was a good one, a fantastic one with princes and princesses and magic and dark, beautiful queens-but it is little more than a distant blur of a memory. Sighing, she forces herself up and out of the warmth of her bed and makes a run down the hall for the bathroom. As soon as her bare feet touch the cold tile floor, she shivers and jams the water on in the shower. Removing her pajamas, she waits until the small bathroom is enveloped in steam before stepping under the burning hot stream. Her eyes close, and her head falls backward at the immediate relief of the water on her tense, tight muscles. She's got stress knots on top of stress knots, but she knows a steamy shower is the closest she'll ever get to a massage.

Well, maybe not the closest.

Her hand, previously gripping the opposite shoulder, slips down a few inches of its own accord. Fingers come in contact with soft, pert nipples and twist gently yet still rough enough to draw a gasp from her lips. God, when was the last time she did this? There is hardly ever time with her demanding work schedule, and when she does have the time, she never has the privacy. It's not like she can do it while Henry's up and running around the house. She did used to do it at night after he'd gone to bed, but after the time he'd walked in on her, she won't try that again. He was only five, and, thank God, he didn't realize what was going on. She hadn't gotten far at all before he opened her bedroom door and asked to sleep with her for the night because of another scary nightmare. And that is one request she knows she will _never_ deny.

Henry's home now, but he's dead asleep. He will be for another hour. She knows because she set his alarm. And the kid never wakes up early unless he has to. So, she's got a little time alone. With how repressed and pent-up she is, it won't take long.

While one hand alternates between her nipples, lavishing them with attention, the other slips down her body further. Fingers splay out over her torso and travel over each bump and ridge of defined, hard abs. She's got a good body, she knows it. In her line of work, she has to.

The tips of her fingers make contact with the smooth, carefully shaved skin between her thighs, and they spread to part neglected lips. Her breath catches as her middle finger rubs a circle around a criminally neglected clit. One touch, and her back arches with a shudder. God, it's pathetic how fucking deprived she is.

While her thumb massages sweet patterns into her clit, two others trace her entrance teasingly. There is sticky moisture on her hands that she knows damn well isn't from the shower, and she moans as one finger dips inside experimentally. Another second, and both fingers enter gently. Her mouth opens wide while her eyes are pinned closed. In her mind, a dark-haired beauty that looks mysteriously like Rachel Weisz-she's always had a thing for brunettes with pretty brown eyes-stands before her. It's her hands squeezing and massaging her breasts. It's her fingers curling and thrusting inside of her, her fingers that her soaked walls are tightening around. God, she's really fucking close.

A banging at the door makes her jump and shriek out loud in shock.

"Ma!" Henry's voice is a stark reminder that there is no one in that shower with her. No placing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. No one working their way slowly back down to her still throbbing cunt. No one pushing deep inside...

"Hey, Ma!" Emma nearly slips again before drawing her hands away from her body reluctantly.

"What is it, Henry?" she calls back in a slightly shaking voice. She clears her throat to dismiss the tremor.

"Don't be too long in there, okay?" he says. "I've got to shower, too, and I'd like to have some hot water."

"Sure thing, kid."

"Cool." His footsteps fade out of earshot, and Emma presses her forehead to the warm shower tile. Well, there goes that plan.

It takes her little more than fifteen minutes to shower now that her recreational privileges have been revoked, and as soon as she steps out into the hallway, plush towel wrapped around her body, Henry streaks past her to shower, closing the door behind him. Not for the first time, she wishes that she could've afforded a bigger apartment. Preferably one with _two_ bathrooms. But beggars can't be choosers, and it had been hard enough for Emma to find this place. Storybrooke was charming but almost painfully small, and nobody ever really left according to her research. This made apartment hunting a serious pain. She was lucky to have found one at all.

The apartment was nice enough. Sure, she would've liked to change a few things-a second bathroom, more closet space, a building elevator because those three flights were going to be a bitch with groceries. But she really can't complain. She had certainly lived in worse places.

Emma gets dressed and fixes her hair, pulling the top back to keep it out of her eyes but leaving the lower half to fall down her shoulders in tumbling curls. After applying a thin layer of makeup, she stands back and looks herself over in the mirror. Today is her first day at her new job as a waitress at a quaint restaurant in town called Granny's Diner. She'd met with the gruff owner, Eugenia Lucas, the previous evening just before closing when she noticed a _HELP WANTED_ sign in the window. According to the old woman, who insisted Emma call her Granny like everyone else, only she and her granddaughter worked in the diner, and the demand had simply gotten too big for them. Fortunately, Emma had some previous experience as a waitress, though she hadn't done it in a while. Still, she was confident she could do it and told Granny as much. The gray-haired woman with calloused hands and a lined face that spoke of a less-than-easy life seemed to see something in Emma worth taking a chance on, because she smiled at her.

"You know, you remind me of myself at your age," Granny had admitted. "Confident and capable. Tough, because I'd faced the brittle side of life at a young age." Blue eyes examined Emma carefully behind narrow spectacles. "Unfortunately, some of us find out life isn't all rainbows and sunshine too soon." Emma had squirmed under that analytical gaze uncomfortably for a few seconds before Granny declared that she was hired and would start the next morning.

She smooths out the wrinkles in the white button-up shirt and tucks it tighter into the red, high-waist pants. The ends of the skin-tight pants are tucked into a pair of black combat boots, and her trusty leather jacket waits for her on her bed, the red color finishing the ensemble off nicely. Granny had given her the dress code the day before. Red and white are apparently the diner colors. There hadn't been much more beyond that except that she should dress appropriately. A muttered comment about having "enough tramp to go around already" piqued Emma's curiosity, but the older woman didn't elaborate further.

After she is ready for the day, Emma makes her way back down the hall to the kitchen. Henry is out of the shower and getting dressed for his first day at his new school in his room. She knows he is excited and hopes that he enjoys it. The last school he'd attended back in Boston hadn't been great. They'd lived in a rough neighborhood because who the hell could afford to live in the nicer parts of Boston? It wasn't as if she had the money to rent out an apartment in Beacon Hill or Back Bay. Storybrooke schools were supposed to be some of the best public schools in New England. That was how she found that place-Storybrooke was entirely too tiny for her to stumble upon otherwise. No, it was the stellar reviews of the school district and small-town feeling of community and family that had drawn them both in. It sounded nice, and they both wanted that. So, they came to Storybrooke, and so far, it hadn't disappointed.

After she turns on the coffeemaker, Emma grabs a box of Lucky Charms from the pantry and pours one bowl for herself and another for Henry. As she pours the milk into each, she hears sneakers rounding the corner into the kitchen.

"Morning, Ma," Henry greets as he sits down at the table where she places his cereal bowl. Smiling, Emma leans down and presses a kiss to the top of his head. She's grateful he doesn't yet scoff at her attention or jerk away-she'd feared the arrival of his twelfth birthday would've made him too cool for her affection. He still allows her to hug and kiss him, though, and he tells her he loves her at least once a day, so she is assured that he is still, at least for another year, her little boy.

"Morning, kid," she says as she sits down beside of him with her own cereal and a cup of hot, highly-sweetened coffee. "Excited?"

He nods his head. "Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too."

"Nervous?" she repeats and nudges him with her elbow playfully. "What have you got to be nervous about? You're smart, funny, and you've got your mother's good looks and charm. They're all going to love you."

He chuckles and rolls his eyes at her. "Gee, thanks." She watches the corners of his mouth flicker downward as he looks at his cereal.

"Hey, Henry, what's up?" she asks him. "You seem like something's bothering you."

He shrugs. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Lie," she claims confidently, and he cuts his eyes up at her.

"God, that lie detector thing is annoying."

"And accurate. So, spill kid. What's bugging you?"

He sighs. "It's just... my teachers will all have read my transfer files. They'll know about the fights and stuff." He turns his spoon over in his bowl. "I just don't want to start at a new school as the bad kid, y'know?"

Yeah, she knows. She knows really well, but he doesn't need to know her sob story.

"Hey, look at me." His hazel eyes slide up to her, revealing his insecurity and anxiety, and she squeezes his hand. "It's always hard starting a new school, and we've both had our bumps in the past. But you are _not_ a bad kid. You're an amazing boy, and anyone with eyes can see that. Understand?" He nods. "And if anyone brings it up, you just tell them the truth, right? You don't have anything to hide. You tell them what happened just like you told me and your old principal. If they're worth you caring what they think of you, they'll listen. If they don't, well, you'll know then that's somebody you don't need to worry about." She brushes her fingers through his short, sleek brown hair lovingly. "You don't go in there feeling ashamed. You don't owe anyone anything, least of all an explanation. You hold your head up high, and you show them just how great you are. You know how you do that?" He shakes his head. "You just be yourself, because that is one spectacular kid. Got me?"

He smiles at her, and it's the smile that she loves. The one that she has always done and will always do anything to draw out of him. "Yeah, got you."

"Good. Now, hurry up and finish your breakfast. We've got to go." She stands and places her bowl in the sink. As she turns back around, Henry rushes to her and throws his arms tight around her waist, burying his face into her shoulder. She smiles and hugs him back.

"Thanks, Ma," he says. "How do you always know what'll make me feel better?"

"Because I'm your mother," she answers matter-of-factly and taps her temple when he looks up at her. "It's my super power." He grins. "Get your jacket so we can leave."

The two of them file out of the apartment together, locking the door behind them. They take the stairwell down and out of the complex to the dented and scuffed yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked outside. It's not especially cold outside, but it is rather chilly. Boston had been cold, but Maine is noticeably cooler. It's not hard for Emma to adjust-Minnesota and Wisconsin had been colder when she lived there as a kid. She feels comfortable in her thin, leather jacket. Henry, however, even in his thick, wool coat, shivers when a gust of wind hits. She makes a note in her head to buy him some warmer clothes as soon as she gets the money. She can make do with that she has. He comes first.

They get in the car, and Emma immediately cranks up the heater for him upon turning the ignition. He gives her a grateful smile while holding his fingers up to the vents. She'd only recently had the heater fixed in the Bug, and she's grateful for her foresight now. The radio hums a low song as she backs out of the apartment building's parking lot and onto the main road. She taps her fingers on the steering wheel along to the sound of The Black Keys.

"So, are you excited for work?" Henry asks her with a grin.

She rolls her eyes over at him. "Ecstatic, can't you tell?" He chuckles. "No, but I am happy for the job. I think I'll enjoy working for Granny-she seems cool. I'll meet her granddaughter today, and I hope she's a carbon copy of Eugenia. Although I don't know how well that thick-skinned hide and bitter mouth would make for a waitress."

"I can't wait to meet them both after school," Henry tells her. "I'll come straight there. What time's your shift over?"

"I'm working an eight-to-four today," she answers him. "So, you'll just have to hang out there for an hour or so, and then we'll go back home."

"And what is the likelihood of there being pie included in that hour?" he inquires innocently.

Emma laughs and wraps her arm around him. "Always gunning for sweets-man, I've taught you well. I'd say your chances for pie are looking pretty good, kid." He grins as they come to a stop at the front of his new school. "Come here." They lean across the console and hug. She kisses his temple tenderly. "Have a good day, okay, Henry?" Her throat tightens. "I-I really think this place will be good for us, and I hope we can stay here for a while. Maybe for good."

Drawing back, he smiles at her. "Me too, Ma." Smiling, she strokes his cheek. "I promise I'll try to stay out of trouble."

"I know you will. Why do I know that?"

He sighs and repeats the mantra, "Because I'm not a troubled kid."

"Exactly. Go show 'em that Swan charm and wit." She winks at his smile. "I'll see you at three, Henry. I love you."

Shouldering his bag, he clambers out of the Bug. "Love you too, Ma. Have a good day at work." She smiles after him as he closes the car door and walks up to the school. She'll never understand what she ever did to have a kid like that, but, shit, is she glad she does. She'd be lost without Henry in her life. Weird how things that seem bad at first turn out to be the greatest part of her life.

A honk from an impatient car behind her reminds Emma that she has to get to work, so she throws the Bug into gear and moves forward, allowing one last look at Henry as he enters the school.

"Please," she mutters under her breath to someone she isn't sure is listening. "Please let him have a good day."

When she gets to work, it's seven-forty-five. She allows herself a few minutes in the car, head resting against the seat and eyes closed. Some song that she vaguely recognizes plays from the radio, and it has an alright beat, so she uses it to key herself up for the door. Turning it up a few notches, she nods her head and beats her fists against her thighs. Her lips move along to the words that she doesn't realize she knows.

 _Oh, look at my face. My name is Might Have Been. My name is Never Was. My name's forgotten._

There's a rapping sound against her window, and she jumps in surprise. Her eyes open, and she looks up to see a girl kneeling beside her car smiling at her and waving cheerily. Cutting the engine, she opens the door and steps out.

"Hi!" the girl greets with a sunny demeanor that Emma isn't sure is possible this early in the morning. "I'm Ruby-you must be Emma." The girl-not really a girl, a young woman not far from Emma's own age-has long, dark hair streaked with bright, rebellious red and pale white skin. She's beautiful with lips painted deep red and dark-lined green eyes that sparkle with excitement. Emma's eyes trail down her body, and suddenly Granny's tramp comment makes a little more sense. Emma wonders how the hell she isn't freezing in that button-up tied off above her waist, the short, red skirt, fishnet hose, and heels. "Granny tells me your going to be my new work buddy."

Emma smiles at her. "Yep, that's me. Pleasure to meet you." She extends her hand, but Ruby bypasses it altogether and throws her arms around her in a hug.

"Oh, this is awesome!" she exclaims, practically jumping with Emma in her arms. She's surprisingly strong and somehow warm as she pins Emma to her. "Granny's never hired anyone else here before-it gets so dull working with just her. I know that we're going to be the best of friends. I mean, you listen to Hole, so that already proves you've got good taste."

"Uh, yeah," Emma says uncertainly. "I'm sure we are."

"Come on, let's get inside. You must be freezing." Ruby fumbles through a key ring for the right one as they move to the front door of the diner.

Emma's eyes widen. "Aren't _you_ cold?"

Ruby grins at her over her shoulder as she opens the door. "Nah. I'm pretty hot-blooded." The mischievous glimmer in her eyes makes Emma laugh. Yeah, she's going to like this girl.

They work together to get the diner ready for opening at eight. It doesn't take much-just mopping and sweeping and wiping down the tables. Granny arrives a few minutes after them and goes straight back to the kitchen, offering them a barked "Good morning" that makes them both chuckle.

"So, where are you from anyway?" Ruby asks as they wipe tables down. "We don't get a lot of newcomers around here."

"I noticed," Emma answers. "I moved from Boston."

"Wow, big city. Why would you ever move to Storybrooke from somewhere as excited as Boston?"

Emma's lips pull down slightly, and she turns her face to hide her discomfort. "We just needed a change of scenery."

"We?"

"Yeah, my son and I."

"Oh, you've got a kid?" Ruby asks with bright eyes, and Emma nods. "I love kids! How old is he? Five? Four? Is he a baby? I love chubby babies!"

Emma smiles at her. "Henry hasn't been a baby for a long time now. He's twelve."

Ruby's eyes widen, and her jaw drops. Emma doesn't pay it any attention-she's used to the reaction by now. "Twelve? But you're, like, not even thirty!"

"Twenty-nine, actually," she says casually. "I had him young."

Ruby snaps her jaw closed, only then realizing how impoliteness. "Oh, yeah. That makes sense. Y'know, my friend Ashley's only twenty, and she just found out she's pregnant. She's totally freaking out."

"It can be a hard situation to handle," Emma muses.

"Yeah, but her boyfriend Sean's been super supportive of her," Ruby says, and Emma knows damn well that she's fishing. "What about you? You have a boyfriend to help you with your son?"

Standing up straight, Emma pins her with a look that makes her stance on the issue clear. "I have not dated a man in twelve years, and I don't need one to help me with Henry. We've made it so far on our own, and we're doing fine."

Ruby flounders for an answer, fully aware that she has stepped too far. "Of course! I didn't mean to intrude." Her shoes paws at the checkered-tile floor. "So... you haven't been with a guy in twelve years." She peeks a glance up at Emma, biting on her lower lip. "How about a girl?"

Emma chuckles and shakes her head. "Are you coming onto me, Ruby?"

"No!" the brunette says quickly. "I mean, no offense. You're totally hot, and I'd be all over it if I didn't get the feeling we'd make much better friends than lovers." Emma nods in agreement. "It's just that, well, we don't have much of a gay community here in Storybrooke, and most of the ones who _are_ gay are major closet cases. It just gets a little lonely being one of the only out people around here."

"You're gay?"

"Pan," she answers with a proudly raised chin. "I like 'em all."

Emma grins. "Nice. I'm not even sure what I'd be classified as, to be honest. I mean, I was with a man once before-obviously-but I've never been extremely attracted to them. The thing with Henry's dad was a drunken one night stand I can't even remember. I've always liked women more, but can you even be a lesbian if you've been with a man? Doesn't that, like, disqualify you?"

Ruby laughs. "Emma, hon, it's not a sport. You can't be disqualified. There are no strict rules and regulations. Do you like women?" Emma nods. "Do you want to kiss women?" Again, she nods. "Does the mere thought of Cate Blanchett make you weak in the knees?"

"I usually go for brunettes, but yes, absolutely," Emma smiles.

"Well then, there you go! You passed the lesbian test, and you're now an official graduate of lesbian school! Your degree will appear in the mail soon." She throws her arms around Emma with a big grin. "Congratulations, my precious little lezzie!"

Emma laughs. "Thanks. I'll cherish this moment forever."

"Hey, you two!" Granny barks from the kitchen. "That's enough clucking-we've got customers coming in!"

The day passes rather quickly for Emma. For the most part, the diner remains busy with hungry customers, all of whom see fit to introduce themselves to the new girl in town. In the downtime between rushes, Ruby and Emma go back and forth between each other, laughing and smiling. She knows immediately that she's going to like this job. The work is easy, and she's good at it, and the company is more than suiting. She even likes Granny, the crotchety old crone and all her biting remarks that aren't sincere enough to be hurtful. She likes this place. This job. These people. She likes this town, and she hopes to God they won't have to spirit away from here in the night like Boston.

Wiping her palms on her thighs thoughtfully, Emma peruses the storage room for the bag of sugar that Ruby sent her to retrieve to refill the containers on the tables. She hasn't checked her watch recently, but she's sure her shift must be coming to a close soon. Spotting the bag up on the top of shelf of the pantry, she climbs up the lower shelves to reach it. Tilting it down into her arms, she drops back down and makes her way back out of the storage room with the heavy bag hoisted in the crook of her arm.

"So, you're Henry?"

She looks up to see Ruby leaned against the bar, smirking down at a wide-eyed Henry. He gapes at Ruby and what little she wears to cover her skin.

"Your mother's told me a lot about you," Ruby continues while Henry can't seem to recover the ability to speak. "She did say that you knew how to talk, though."

He clears his throat. "Oh, um, yeah, I-I'm Henry."

"I'm Ruby, your mother's friend."

"Good to meet you. Y-You're really pretty."

"What was that?" Emma says, and he turns to her with red ears.

"M-Ma!" he exclaims. "I was just..."

"Flirting with Ruby, I can tell," she teases, elbowing him playfully. His blush deepens as she starts refilling the sugar containers while Ruby moves behind the counter to put on another pot of coffee. It's another downtime, and the diner's quiet all but a few customers sipping coffee and nibbling on bagels and scones. "I'm just kidding you, Henry. How was school?"

"Good," he answers. "All my classes were fun, and everyone was really nice." He moves to Emma's side and holds the bag of sugar for her. She smiles gratefully at him. "One teacher I especially like. Ms. Mills. She's my English teacher, and she's really nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I showed off my Swan charm, and she loved it." Emma grins at him. "And I impressed her with my literary prowess."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, they were reading _Oliver Twist_ before I got there, and I was able to answer her questions when no one else could."

"Is that so?" Emma says as she moves to the next table and nods to the sugar bag with wide eyes before quoting in her best Victorian English accent, "'Please, Sir, I want some more.'"

He rolls his eyes at her and holds the bag open. "Don't be weird, Ma." She smiles and digs out another scoop. "She wanted to talk to me after class, and she asked me about, y'know, my record." Emma stops and raises an eyebrow at him inquisitively. "She wasn't mean or judgmental. I did what you told me to. I explained the whole thing, and she understood. She told me she'd help me avoid bullies so long as I promise to stay out of fights."

"Glad to know you've got someone there watching out for you," Emma notes with a smile and kisses his temple tenderly. "Did you make any other friends?"

He shrugs. "I guess so." He pauses uncertainly. "Well, there was a girl."

"A girl?" Ruby repeats from the counter with waggling eyebrows. "Uh-oh."

"Hey, whose side are you on?" Henry throws back at her while Emma grins.

"Who's the girl, kid?" she asks.

"Her name's Violet, and she's really nice," he answers. "We're in a lot of classes together. She let me use her book, and we talked some between classes. She offered to help me catch up since I'm coming a month late into the semester."

"Sounds like a nice girl," Emma says.

"Sounds like she's into him!" Ruby calls, and Henry blushes again while Emma laughs.

"I think I promised you a piece of pie," she tells him and walks to the counter to plate him a piece of the pie.

"What flavor?" he asks as she slides it to him.

"Cherry."

"Sweet. Thanks, Ma." Grabbing his fork, he digs into the pie and shoves a piece into his mouth.

Granny rambles out of the kitchen to look him over with steel eyes. "And who might you be, young man?"

He swallows before offering her a bright smile. "I'm Henry-" he points his thumb at Emma- "her son. You must be Granny."

She sucks on the inside of her cheek. "And what do you think of that pie?"

He grins. "It's delicious, ma'am."

A few seconds pass before Granny's face cracks into the smallest of smiles, and she looks over at Emma. "I like him."

"Yeah, he's alright," she nods, winking at him.

After her shift ends, Granny insists upon Emma and Henry taking dinner home with them from the diner since Henry made a slight remark about the freezer meal waiting them at home. When they get back to their apartment that evening, they enjoy the meatloaf, green beans, and rolls over the dinner table.

"She packed us some pie, too," Henry notes as he rummages through the bag Granny had packed for her.

"I'll have to thank her again tomorrow," Emma says. "That was too kind of her. It's not her job to do all that for us."

"Maybe she didn't do it because she thought it was her job," Henry shrugs. "Maybe she did it because she wanted to." He grins. "She could probably tell that you're not much of a cook."

She elbows him. "Hey, lay off me." He chuckles. "So, you like it here, don't you?"

"Yeah, Ma. I do. A lot."

"Me, too."

After dinner, they lounge on the sofa and watch some of Henry's favorite cartoons. At eight o'clock, Emma sighs reluctantly and hauls herself up the stairs to change clothes and re-apply her makeup, heavier than before, the dark liner making her eyes look winder than they are. She lets all of her hair down, fixing it into messy curls and looks herself over with sad eyes.

When she makes her way back to the living room, Henry glances up at her and crosses his arms.

"Second job?" he asks.

"Yes," she answers. "I've got a late shift. I'll be back in a few hours." Leaning down, she kisses the top of his head. "No more sugar tonight, okay? And you stay in-I'll lock the door behind me, and I don't want you opening it." He nods. "And don't stay up past ten. You've got school tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma," he says, and, though he doesn't know the details of her second job, the one that pays their bills and keeps a roof over their had, he doesn't like it. He sees how much his mother hates going to this job, just like she'd hated going to her night job back in Boston. Just like she'd hated it for as long as he could remember. He sees how tired she is as she moves to the door, how she would much rather stay home with him, and he wishes more than anything that she could. But the reality is that without this job, they wouldn't live. So, he doesn't say anything.

"I love you, Henry," she says, her hand on the doorknob. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Love you too, Ma." He turns his head and watches as she starts to leave. "Be careful."

She smiles back at him tightly, withholding a wealth of emotion that he shouldn't have to see. "I will, Henry. I always am."

Sucking in a deep breath, she wraps her coat tighter around her jeans and T-shirt, the clothes she wears over her... work uniform and fights every natural instinct to go back inside to spend the rest of the night with her son as she heads down the stairwell and out into the cold.

* * *

 _A/N: Damn, that's one long-ass chapter, isn't it? So, the conversation between Ruby and Emma kind of came out nowhere. I was out drinking with some friends over the weekend, and we somehow got on the subject. I honestly had no idea that people considered women who had slept with men in the past unable to be gay. As a lesbian who was with men in the past before I fully realized and accepted my sexuality, it blew my mind. I mean, aren't we all entitled to experiment and figure things out? Make some mistakes? Well, somehow it worked its way into this story. And damn it if Ruby doesn't come off as so super Pan in the series to me (super Pan, now that could make for a nice joke later on, couldn't it?) ;) Let me know what you think. I know a lot of you are hoping to see Emma and Regina meet soon, but it'll be a bit longer yet. If it all goes as I've outlined it, it should be the fifth chapter. I know. I'm awful, and you'll want to hang me now for it. But so the story goes, and I promise to you that it will be worth it. Give me another two chapters, and you'll get more insight to Emma's second job. Though, I figure you can probably guess it by now. Cheers, and happy reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So, here's chapter 3. Things are going to start picking up more from here out-I understand it's been a little slow winding up, but I feel like the building up of their backgrounds is necessary. Thank you to all of you reading and sticking it out with me. I promise this is going places. So, I live in the Southeast, and, as some of you may know, my little corner of the world is gearing up for a big snowstorm starting this afternoon. 21 inches! We haven't had that around here in a long time, and everyone's scrambling for bread and milk and TP. My point being that I'll probably be snowed in this entire weekend into Monday and maybe even Tuesday. Which I intend to spend writing, drinking hot cocoa, and watching the snow fall whilst wearing fuzzy socks. I'll try to update every day, but the internet could get knocked out here-I kind of live out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere as it is. If it does, though, I'll continue writing and upload a chapter for every day I missed when the internet comes back. Hope you guys like this-this chapter has a lot of filler and background for Regina, but there's some action that will hopefully balance out the introspective stuff, too. And if you're a big fan of the Regal Believer feels, you're in luck. :) Remember to drop me some feedback please. Happy reading, and stay safe and warm if you're going to be caught in this winter weather as well!_

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"Alright, I'd like for you all to take the rest of the period to work on these essay questions." Regina finishes writing the questions on the whiteboard and steps back to face her students. "Partner up if you'd like, but only two people. No big groups-I'd like for you to stay on task for the last twenty minutes of the period." She looks pointedly at a particularly boisterous student in her class, Roland Hood. Surrounded by his posse of friends, fellow-football players, he often proves to be something of a troublemaker. A good kid deep down but troubled all the same.

"Let me know if you've got any questions. And keep the volume minimal, please." Regina returns to her desk after giving them all a look that assured them she was not kidding and sits down behind her computer. She begins sifting through several essays and tests that still required her grading attention and uncaps her red pen with a sigh. Several students pair up while others choose instead to work alone, popping headphones into their ears connected to their phones and iPods.

After a few minutes focusing solely on the essay in front of her, Regina lifts her eyes for a cursory look of her class. Everyone appears to be combining working and socializing, but they are working, and so she doesn't call them down. She notices Henry and Violet partnered up and smiles. They have sat beside each other in class for the entire week, and she's seen them eating lunch together as well. They are always smiling at each other, laughing quietly. A grin breaks across her face when Violet drops her pen, and Henry nearly topples out of his desk to retrieve it for her. He gives it back to her, and she smiles and says something softly, her lips resembling something like "Prince Charming." Henry blushes bright red in response, ducking his head, and Regina must stifle a chuckle. It's adorable how goofy he is over his obvious crush, and she's glad to find that Violet appears to be just as interested in him. She is a good girl, and he is a good boy. They're a cute pair.

She redirects her attention to the essay in her hands and is pleased to find that it is in fact Henry's. She knew he was smart and would make her job a pleasure, but she didn't realize he'd be _this_ smart. He offers up intelligent discussion every class and analyzes classic literature with the insight of someone twice his age. And his writing is phenomenal, by the far the greatest she's ever encountered from a student. Obviously, he does more than just reads in his spare time. Regina hopes he does write habitually as his skill seems to insinuate-he has a clear gift, and she knows that it could take him far in life. Yes, she hasn't had a pupil this bright in a while, and the excitement of it reminds her of why she began teaching in the first place.

The children. It's always been about children for her. All her life, Regina has loved kids. Even when she was one herself, she liked them. In her teenage years, she had a-surprisingly lucrative-babysitting business where she looked after most of the kids in her neighborhood over summers and whenever their parents would go out for date night or away for weekends. It was a good job, and that was what encouraged her to go to school to be a teacher. At first, she thought she would like to be an elementary school teacher, but when she was in college, she was placed at a middle school for her student-teaching internship. She fell in love with it. The kids weren't easy-everyone said middle schoolers were hard, and they weren't lying. But Regina liked the challenge. She reached out to the kids, and they opened up to her. She knew then that she could make the most positive impact in middle school. That was her place, and it still is.

And yet, there's still something that gnaws at her day-and-night. A longing. An unfulfilled desire that won't relent. She has always considered her students to be like her own children-she loves them all just the same as if they were hers, even the difficult ones like Roland. But it's not the same, is it? She works with them and gets attached, and then they leave her after six months. They leave her class and her life, and, sure, she gets to see them walking the halls and in town. But it's just not the same. The relationship crumbles without them in her class, and soon enough, they forget about her. And that hurts. A lot.

She wants a child that's actually hers. A child that won't move out of her life in 180 days. She wants a baby to hold and love. She wants something of her own.

But that is proving harder to achieve than she originally thought. In vitro and surrogacy are expensive as is adoption, but she has a large savings account built up to mention nothing of the inheritance she received from her parents passing. Her father had left everything to her, his only daughter, and she'd received half of her mother's estate, split with her half-sister, Zelena. She has the money. But there is a waiting list for the in vitro clinic that stretches on for years, and adoption agencies aren't favorable to single women. They want her to be a foster parent, but she doesn't know if she can handle that. It would be the same, wouldn't it? Only worse. A child or children would be introduced to her life, brought into her home and her heart, and she'd love them. But then they'd go, too. Even if they weren't adopted, they'd move on eventually to the next home. And the process to adopt is so long and difficult-there would always be a risk of rejection. And what if the child's parents were still present? What if they decided one day they wanted them back? The system would always rather give the children back to the biological parents, no matter what crimes they may have committed previously.

Regina would not survive that. She knows it, and that is what holds her back with signing the papers and fulfilling the requirements to register as a foster parents. But she's not getting any younger, and her prospects seem to be dwindling. But her desire to be a mother, someone, anyone's mother, only grows stronger and stronger with each passing day.

She blinks and looks back down at Henry's essay on the themes present in _Of Mice and Men_. She smiles softly, dismissing those sad, unpleasant thoughts to instead focus on this brilliant boy. She isn't sure what led him and his mother to Storybrooke, but she is so glad that he is here in her classroom now. He never fails to brighten her day and lighten her heart. And he has kept up his end of their bargain so far. She hasn't heard word of any fights or arguments. Not even a tardy note on his part. It is more than clear that he enjoys being here in school, and he wants to prove to her and everyone else he is more than his record presents. She has told him a million times over that it isn't necessary for him to prove anything. She knows he is a good kid. She has seen what a beautiful mind and heart he has already. But he keeps trying, and Regina can't help but wonder where this feeling of... inadequacy must stem from. She still knows very little about his home life aside from the fact that it is a single-parent home. He talks fondly about his mother like she is some kind of super hero, and Regina supposes she must be. From what Henry says, she's raised him by herself his entire life, doing whatever she must to make sure he is cared for. At one point, he'd told her she had worked three jobs at a time to make ends meet and still struggles now. When Regina mentioned some programs offered by the school and community for financial assistance, he simply smiled and shook his head.

"She'd never accept it," he'd said. "Too proud. Ma doesn't do charity."

Regina can understand that. She knows a thing or two about pride, and it does not do well with admitting weakness or failure or accepting help. Still, she can't help but wonder if Henry's mother's pride is not getting in the way of his best interest. Children need their parents present, especially in a single-parent household, and if his mother is too busy working several jobs to spend time with him and ensure that he feels loved and attended to, Henry will be the one to suffer in the end.

The bell rings suddenly, breaking Regina from her internal musings, and she looks up in surprise as her students begin packing up to leave.

"Have a good afternoon, kids," she says to them all, silently cursing herself for being swept up in her thoughts. She hadn't accomplished anything, and if a student had required her attention or assistance, she never would've noticed.

Henry stands along with Violet, and the two bid Regina goodbye as they head for the exit side-by-side. She returns the sentiment with a warm smile and nod.

"You should definitely try out for the soccer team," Violet tells Henry as they exit. "You'd love it, and the boys' team needs a good striker." She grins proudly. "We girls are showing them up like crazy, and you might give them a fighting chance to keep up with us. I mean, not a big chance, but, y'know, it couldn't hurt."

"Gee thanks," Henry chuckles, and Regina smiles to herself at the two. They are quite cute. "I'll think about it. Do, um, do the girls and boys practice together?" Regina covers her mouth to hide a smirk. Very smooth.

"No, but we share the field during practices," Violet answers. "So, we'd get to see each other. Sometimes we do have scrimmage games together. Like I said, we beat the boys every time."

"Well, I might just have something to say about that."

"Say all you want-it won't matter if you're no good."

"Hey!"

Their voices fade away down the hall, and Regina shakes her head. She's glad Henry has made a friend-maybe more than a friend-already. She worried at first over that. No matter how good a teacher she was to him and how much she stood up for him, he wouldn't like it there if he didn't make friends. Obviously, that concern wasn't warranted.

Standing, Regina moves to the whiteboard and wipes it clean. She is pondering what she'll have for dinner that evening-the chicken in the freezer will need to thaw in the sink a while-when she hears something hitting the lockers in the hallway hard. Frowning, she pauses and listens. There are voices, low and quiet enough that she can't recognize them. Fearing an accident, she puts the eraser down and walks outside of her classroom to investigate.

She gasps in surprise. Roland and his friends are there pinning another boy against the lockers. A boy who, after a moment, Regina recognizes as Henry.

"You stay away from Violet, new kid!" Roland growls at him. "She doesn't even like you."

"I think she can speak for herself," Henry says back, scrunching his nose in anger. "And she seems to like me just fine."

"No, she just feels sorry for you because you're such a loser," Roland insists. "Violet's nice and won't tell you, but I'm not. She's my girlfriend, new kid. Stay away from her."

"That's enough!" Regina powers down the hallway towards them. At the sight of her, Roland immediately shrinks back, releasing Henry and backing away from him. "What do you think you're doing, Mr. Hood?"

He stammers. "I-I was just... We were only talking, Ms. Mills."

"Talking?" she demands hotly, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "It didn't look like innocent chit-chat to me." She looks at Henry. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he says, smoothing out his shirt. "No harm, no foul. Let's just drop it."

"Drop it?" she repeats. "I can't just-"

"Nothing happened," he persists. "We didn't get into a fight. It was just a misunderstanding. Right?" He looks sharply at Roland who nods his head emphatically. "It won't happen again."

Regina looks between the two uncertainly before pressing her lips together tight and crossing her arms. "It had better not." She gives Roland a scathing look. "If I see or hear of anything like this again, there will be severe consequences. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ms. Mills!" Roland and his friends all chorus before she dismisses them with a nod. They scramble down the hall and out of the school, and she turns to Henry again. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he nods. "I was just coming back to my locker for a book I forgot, and Roland wanted to assert his power as the school's tough guy, I guess. No big deal. Nothing happened."

"But would it have if I hadn't stepped in?" she frowns.

He smiles at her, but it is thin and not nearly as bright as his usual ones. "I can handle it, Ms. Mills. I appreciate the concern, but I'm not afraid of Roland. I've dealt with his kind before, and he isn't one of the dangerous ones. He's all talk, him and his goons."

"And how do you know that?"

Now, he grins wider. "He wears pressed khakis and sweater vests. Not exactly the mark of a hardened fighter." Regina can't help but smile at the comment. "I'll just avoid them. I told you, I'm not going to get into any fights, and Roland won't throw the first punch. He wants to goad me into starting it, so that I'm the one who gets the blame. I won't give him the satisfaction."

"Good," Regina says. "Now, why don't you sit in class while I dial your mother and let her know-"

" _No_!" Henry's eyes widen, and he blurts the word out desperately. Regina's eyebrows raise, never having seen him look so urgent before. "Please, Ms. Mills, don't call my mom. I told you, I'm fine. Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. There's no need to tell her."

Regina furrows her brow at him. "Henry, what's wrong? Why don't you want to tell your mother about this?"

He shrugs, clamming up. "There's nothing tell."

She purses her lips. "Henry."

He sighs, recognizing the tone immediately despite only having been in her class a week. "I just don't want to worry her anymore. I mean, she's already got so much on her, y'know? And I remember how hard she would take it when my old teachers would call her about my fights." He smiles sadly at her. "She always stood up for me. No matter what, no matter if it had been my fault or not, she always defended me, and she has never stopped believing in me." He frowns. "I promised her when we moved that I would do better and stay out of trouble. Calling her over something like this won't really help my case. I know she's always going to love me no matter what, but I don't want to add anymore pressure on her. She's got enough as it is." He looks at her, and she already knows there is no way she can deny him. "Please, Ms. Mills. Don't call her."

Regina brushes his hair out of his eyes and nods. "Okay. I won't call her. This will stay between us."

"Thank you," he smiles at her. "Thank you so much, Ms. Mills." He throws his arms around her, and she relaxes into the warmth and comfort of the embrace.

She hugs him back with a grin. "You're welcome, Henry. Now, you'd better get going now or else she'll be worried anyway."

Stepping back, he walks backwards towards the school exit and waves to her. "Bye, Ms. Mills. I'll see you tomorrow."

She beams back and returns the wave with one of her own. "Until tomorrow."

It's Wednesday, and Regina leads an after school tutoring session on Mondays and Wednesdays, so she doesn't get home until well into the evening. Hanging her jacket and purse on the coat rack upon entering her house, she sighs and moves to the kitchen. She doesn't have the energy or desire to cook a real dinner, so she settles for something frozen. Leaning against the counter, she picks distastefully at the plaster container of disappointment and ends up throwing it out once she's suffered enough to placate her empty stomach. Pouring herself out a glass of her homemade cider, she stands there alone and listens to the silence ringing in the far-too-large house. It was her mother's, bought after her father died and lived in for less than five years before her mother followed suit. It was left to both her and Zelena, but her sister had know interest in owning it. So, Regina bought her out out of a sense of obligation to her mother. She would want it to remain in the family. Truthfully, Regina doesn't want the house. It's very nice, filled with only the top-of-the-line appliances and decor, but it's too big for just her. It feels cold. The sign of a house that has never truly been a home. Maybe she'd like it more if she wasn't the only one living there.

A part of her always thinks of putting it up for sale. The real estate market in Storybrooke isn't necessarily booming, but a house like that wouldn't sit for long. She has gotten plenty of real estate agents chomping at the bit for the commission that place would bring. She could take some of the money and buy a smaller, cozier place. Somewhere more suited for herself. She'd be happier someplace like that, she thinks. But everytime she considers it seriously, her mother's voice nags at the back of her mind. She can't sell it. Her mother loved that stately mansion. It would be like a betrayal. One final disappointment.

Sighing, Regina downs the rest of her cider and places the glass in the sink to tend to later. She ascends the staircase leading to the master suite. She sheds her clothes, dropping the skirt and blouse in the hamper on her way to the attached bathroom. She turns the water on in the tub and draws herself a bath, lighting aromatic candles and filling the water with oils and soaps. Once it is full, she sinks down into the tub, allowing the warm water to relieve her tight, tense muscles. Resting her head back, she clothes her eyes and exhales. Once more, wretched silence screams in her mind. It's so quiet. It always has been.

She thinks of Henry, something that has become a bit of a habit since he arrived in her life. She doesn't show favoritism, and she cares for all her students. But Henry is special. Henry smiles, and the room lights up. Henry answers her questions respectfully and willingly. He's engaged in class, and he shows up every day ready to learn. He's positive, and he's kind. He makes jokes but never with the intentions of disrupting class. He hangs around before and after class to talk with her. She's never had a student quite like him before, and even though she doesn't favoritism, he would be her pick if she did.

She imagines that Henry would like this kind of a house a lot. She imagines he'd like her book collection in the study and the apple turnovers she is so famous for. Maybe she should invite him over sometime. But that wouldn't be very appropriate, would it? Maybe she should invite his mother then, too. She is curious about this Miss Swan. Henry speaks so highly of her, and if he inherited any of his traits from her, she must be lovely. She thinks that maybe he looks like her. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. A mischievous smile with mile-deep dimples. She must be smart with all the books she has read with Henry. She doesn't know what Miss Swan does for a living, but Henry has said that they struggle financially. That she has to work several jobs to keep them afloat. And she clearly never made it to college if she was so young whenever she got pregnant. Probably not for lack of intelligence or capability but just circumstances. She wonders where this woman's parents are. Why they don't help them. Why Henry never speaks of grandparents. Are they present at all?

Henry said she isn't even thirty yet with a twelve-year-old, which means she must have had him at seventeen or eighteen. God, Regina can't imagine. As badly as she has always wanted a child, she knows she wasn't nearly mature enough to be a mother at that age-especially alone. How did she manage a newborn baby when she was little more than a child herself? How did she take care of him by herself? She must be a strong woman, Regina imagines. Wise beyond her years.

Yes, Regina would like to meet this Miss Swan and very soon.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: So, this is a little later than I intended it to be, but today was rather hectic between shoveling fucking mountains of snow and working from home. I'm still going to post another chapter later today, so two in one. Yippee. My place is buried in snow, so I'll definitely be stuck indoors tomorrow as well. Which means lots of writing time! Hope you guys like this chapter-it took a lot of careful thought to write out the scene from Emma's second job, and I hope I've illustrated it well enough. Let me know what you think of it! :)_

* * *

"Hi, there. Welcome to Granny's Diner. My name's Emma, and I'll be your server."

God, she has only been working there for a week, and that mantra is already burned into her brain. Emma puts on her brightest smile as she stands before the table with her notepad and pen out. She holds it more for show-the diner isn't busy at the moment, and therefore she and Ruby only have a few tables to wait on.

The man seated at the table in front of her looks her over with appraising eyes that make her skin crawl. She knows those eyes. She gets those eyes almost four nights a week at her second job. She really _hates_ those eyes. Even so, though, she grins through the irritation and keeps her demeanor as friendly as possible.

"Hi there," he smirks at her, leaning back in his chair slightly. He is a tall, slim man with long legs and arms, short, dark blonde hair, and blue eyes. She supposes he is handsome enough, in a generic sort of way, but he is cocky with that slimy smile, and she already doesn't like him. "I've never seen you here before. Are you new to town?"

"Been here a week," she answers, because it is part of her job to be nice to the customers, even if they are assholes.

"Oh, well, that's exciting. It's not very often we get new people in Storybrooke."

"Yeah, so I'm told."

He offers her his hand. "I'm Victor Whale." She shakes it, and he takes the opportunity to tug her a little closer with a grin. "I'm a doctor."

As if that is supposed to impress her. She sucks at her teeth, and her smile quickly turns venomous. "Well, Dr. Whale, it's a real pleasure." She jerks her hand out of his and straightens her back, moving a step or two away from him. "What can I get you today?"

"I'll have something light," he answers. "A late lunch. I had to push it back to work out my busy schedule. Yeah, it can be tough being so important and needed in town, but it's worth it. I mean, the pay is substantial." She blows out through her mouth, tired of being polite. She is pretty sure Granny will understand her impatience if he decides to file a complaint about her. He seems to catch that he has lost her-that he never had her-and clears his throat a bit awkwardly as if to change tactics. "I'll have the turkey on rye and house salad, please. With a tea to drink."

"Excellent choice," she says sharply, taking his menu. "Have that right out for you." Turning on her heel, she tries to ignore the fact that she can feel his eyes on her ass. Perv.

Emma puts in his order and suffers through his come-on's once more to bring his drink to him, though she is considerably less kind from the start. So, he backs off a little. As she turns on a fresh pot of coffee, she notices Ruby standing at the front of the diner. She is wiping the windows. She checks her wrist watch and tuts. 1:45. Like clockwork. Craning her neck, Emma sees the object of her attention walking down the street outside. Pretty girl, long brown curls, and some of the greenest eyes she has ever seen. The same girl that Emma has noticed comes walking by their street every day at 1:45 to go to the hardware store. The girl she has noticed only because Ruby makes a point to clean the windows as soon as she comes by to look at her discreetly-or, at least, she thinks she is discreet. Grinning widely, Emma slinks up behind Ruby, who has still not noticed she has been caught. Emma waits until the girl is gone, not wanting to embarrass her in front of the girl she clearly has a crush on, before poking her head right beside Ruby's, chin hovering over her shoulder.

"Who's the cutie?" she asks, and Ruby jumps, nearly falling. Stepping back, Emma chuckles.

"Not funny," Ruby growls, throwing the rag at her.

She catches it keenly. "It was, and you know it. Who is she, Rubes?"

The brunette rolls her eyes and brushes past Emma. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the hottie you make it a point to gawk at every day she walks by the front of the diner," Emma points out, following after her. They both enter the back room where Ruby busies herself with checking inventory. "Seriously, Rubes. I'm not blind. I know you like her."

Ruby stands with her back to her a few moments before sighing, shoulders sagging, and turning to her. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, it's not _not_ obvious," Emma smiles at her. "I've just been paying attention, though. I don't think anyone else has noticed, though."

"Yeah, they have," Granny barks as she passes by the open doorway.

"Okay. So, just me and Granny, then."

Ruby groans into her hands. "God, this is embarrassing."

"Is not. You've got a crush. It's cute." Ruby shot her a glare. "Who is she?"

"Her name's Dorothy Gale. She lives just outside of town on a farm with her aunt-that's why she's always going to the hardware store for supplies and tools."

"She's pretty," Emma muses. "Nice eyes. Nice ass, too." Ruby elbows her, and the blonde grins back at her. "So, why don't you ask her out?"

"Are you kidding? I've never even spoken to her before."

"Well, no time like the present, right?"

"It's not that simple, Emma."

"Why not?"

Ruby curls her lip at the incessant woman in front of her. "Because... it... it just isn't, okay? I mean, she doesn't know I exist. I'm just diner girl around here."

"And she's just farm girl," Emma throws back. "That is literally the plot for eighty percent of Hallmark movies, except for, y'know, gay. What's stopping you?"

"I don't even know if she likes girls or not," Ruby shakes her head.

"You won't know unless you ask."

"What? Emma, I can't just go up to her and ask her out without knowing if she's gay or straight."

"Why not? When is the last time you saw a guy agonizing over a girl's sexuality before hitting on her? Never. Why should we have to?"

Ruby furrows her brow. "I don't know if it's because I've been spending so much time with you, but that actually made sense."

Emma beams. "Yeah, I do that sometimes. You should ask her out, Rubes. You'll regret it if you don't."

"I know," the brunette sighs. "I just... I'm nervous." Emma notes that she has never seen her friend, usually the epitome of confidence with her scant clothes and head held high, look quite so uncomfortable in her own skin. It makes her realize that there is a lot to Ruby she doesn't yet know. "I don't really date a lot, actually. I mean, I have hook-ups. One-time flings. I get drunk, I fuck someone, I leave before the morning. That's just how it's always been. But, I mean, I don't want it to be like that all the time. I want to find someone to be serious with. I want a real relationship."

"Then don't let the opportunity pass by," Emma tells her, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Ruby smiles as they exit the storage room and move back to the counter. "You've got to at least try. She won't be single forever."

Behind them, Granny rings the bell as she pushes Whale's order onto the sill of the kitchen window.

"Order up!" she barks, and Emma groans at the sight of the sandwich and salad.

"Oh no," she says. "Now I've got to go back to the creepy doctor."

"Oh, you got Whale, huh?" Ruby grimaces. "Yeah, he's pretty awful. I didn't even notice him come in earlier, or I would've taken his table to spare you."

"It's alright," Emma assures her with a small smile. "If there is one thing in the world I'm used to, it's asshole men who think with their dicks." Grabbing the dish, she exhales and winks back at Ruby. "I've got this."

After her shift, Emma and Henry go home for the evening and have dinner. He convinces her that it is the perfect night for a movie marathon-she doesn't take very much convincing, actually-and they set up in the living room together. Cuddled on the sofa under a shared blanket, the mother and son begin their Netflix marathon with a bowl of popcorn between them. Emma holds a bag of Twizzlers in her lap, munching away on them as she watches the TV intently. They have always been her favorite candy, and she keeps at least one pack on hand at any given time. Thankfully, Henry did not inherit his mother's affection for them, because he knows the consequence of eating them without asking her first. Once, he'd snuck around at night and tried one-the moment he discovered he didn't care for them. He never thought she would notice one Twizzler missing from the bag. But she did. The next night, when she opened the pantry to retrieve the bag for dessert, she froze. Henry, watching cartoons, didn't notice. Until, of course, she asked who had been messing with her candy. She didn't speak to him the rest of the night. Overreaction? Yes, but he learned a valuable lesson. Do not mess with Ma's Twizzlers.

They are in the middle of _The Great Outdoors_ when the alarm on Emma's phone chimes, reminding her to get ready for her shift at her second job. She sighs angrily, not wanting to leave the comfort of the couch where Henry has snuggled himself into her arms.

"Kid," she says to him softly.

"Ignore it," he says back.

She frowns. "I really wish I could. Like, you have no idea how much I wish I could stay here all night with you. But I have to work."

Slumping, he sits up enough for her to stand. She replaces her body behind his head with a couple of pillows, but they both know it is a poor substitute. She moves into her bedroom, puts her work clothes on under her jeans and button-up, and retouches her makeup, adding more dramatic eye shadow and darker lipstick. When she walks back into the living room, Henry is no longer laughing at what is one of his favorite movies. He stares dejectedly at the screen, and Emma's heart bleeds at the sight.

"Henry," she whispers, coming back to his side and kneeling in front of him. "I'm sorry, but I don't have a choice."

"I know," he says. "But... I wish you did. I wish I was old enough to get a job, so you could just work at the diner and quit the other job."

Emma smiles sadly, smooths back his hair, and kisses his forehead. "Don't wish your life away, kid. I know it's hard, but things will get better, okay? Someday, it'll be different. I don't want you to worry about it until then, though. I want you to focus on being a kid. No soda past nine and bed by ten, okay? You've still got school tomorrow." He nods, and she kisses his forehead again, biding as much time as she can before she has to leave. "I love you, Henry."

"I love you, Ma." When she pulls back, he smiles at her in the way that makes her insides melt. "I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning." She heads for the door. "Oh, and no scary movies, got it? I'd better not get back here and find you curled up in the fetal position in tears."

"I know," he grins at her. "I hate scary movies, Ma. I only ever watch them when you make me."

"Oh, that's right." She leans in the open doorway and looks at him. "Man, I am a bad influence, aren't I?"

He laughs. "The worst."

She sticks her tongue out. "You'll survive." Closing the door, she locks it securely before walking down the stairwell and outside to her car.

Fifteen minutes later, Emma parks the Bug outside the Wonderland Nightclub with a heavy heart. She looks up at the flashing neon signs and wonders idly how someplace so bleak could appear so bright and colorful. Deciding she can stall no longer, Emma forces herself out of her car and walks reluctantly into the building, heels clattering on the pavement as she goes.

It's loud, but those places always are. There are people everywhere-the club has only been open a half-hour or so, and it's already filed to capacity with expectant customers. A smell of liquor, sweat, and cheap cologne lingers in the air along with a haze of cigarette smoke that stings Emma's eyes. She stands in the doorway a moment, blinking and trying not to notice how the air tastes like ash.

"You're late." The dark, scratchy voice takes her by surprise, and she jumps. Turning, she faces her boss, Mr. Gold. He is thin with feathered brown hair, cold eyes, teeth to match his name, and a short-man complex. Emma hates him, but she also fears him somewhat. Not because he could do her any bodily harm, but because he has a lot of money and power in that small town, and he can hurt her in ways much than physical. Like, for instance, financially.

"Sorry," she tells him, swallowing the bite in her voice. "I was with my kid and lost track of time. It won't happen again."

"It had better not," the imp of a man growls at her, teeth bared as if he could actually bite her. "When I hired you, I expected you to be able to read a clock, dearie." The term of endearment is anything but that, filled with poison and spite. She doesn't answer, knowing that anything more she says will be turned around on her. He waves a hand at her in dismissal. "Go-get dressed. You're on soon."

"Yes, Mr. Gold." She hurries through the club to the big white door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. In case the sign does not deter any potential trespassers, a massive man dressed all in black stands by the door. He doesn't speak, and Emma has no clue of his name. But, as he has done every night since she started work there, he nods to her curtly as she opens the door, and she returns it with a small smile. As much of one as she can manage, that is. Smiles do not come easy in this place.

The back room is a locker room filled with mirrors and vanities. Women dressed in barely anything at all mingle in the room, chatting back-and-forth casually. A wide array of perfumes linger in the air, mixing together to make a nose-wrinkling odor. They don't speak to Emma as she makes her way to her designated locker, but they do watch her, as they do every night. They don't like her. She's only worked there a week, but she has already established herself as one of the best employees there. She's even taken a few customers away from the other girls. It isn't her intention, but business is business, and she needs the money to keep a roof over her kid's head. And that kind of job pays on commission only.

The bass of a song rattles the locker, a muffled roar like the sea echoing miles and miles through a shell. Emma sits at one of the vanities and primps her hair, letting blonde curls fall down her back messily. She applies her eyeliner darker until her eyes like wide enough to swallow her entire face. Though it is far more makeup than she would ever wear off the clock, she still wears substantially less than the others. She doesn't do rouge or highlighter like the other girls, and she certainly doesn't do spray-tans. No, she has always gone for a slightly more natural look. Porcelain skin and deep red lips with smoky eyes. Something a bit more natural.

The beaded curtain covering the doorway behind her is pushed open, and Emma watches the brunette who emerges. She tosses her long, full curls over her shoulder as she walks to the vanity beside Emma. She wears a yellow bikini, but only the bottoms. The top is slung over her shoulders, leaving her upper-body shamelessly bare. It doesn't bother Emma. She has done this long enough not to squirm at the sight of naked breasts.

Soft turquoise eyes flutter down at Emma as she reapplies a shade of pink lipstick, and she smiles at her. "Hey, love. I don't think we've met yet. I'm Belle French, AKA Beauty." She rolls her eyes. "Gold insisted I use that name-I'm afraid he's somewhat infatuated with me."

Emma smiles back at her, grateful to have someone there finally treat her as a friend. "Good to meet you, Belle. I'm Emma. And, yeah, I've noticed he tends to stare at you a lot." She grimaces. "You have my condolences."

Belle laughs. "He is rather dreadful, isn't he?" She pauses, capping the lipstick. "Y'know, I thought at first that he couldn't be so bad as he seems. That there has to be some good under all that twisted badness. I thought maybe I could find it." She sighs and shrugs. "No luck, though. I'm starting to think he's rotten to the core."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Emma says back.

"Swan!" They both turn at the voice to find Gold's head sticking in the doorway. His eyes find their way to Belle's exposed chest and rest there with a hungry glimmer. Self-conscious for the first time, she crosses her arms protectively, and so Emma stands in front of her to help her cover herself from him. At the obstacle presented, Gold glares at Emma. "You're on."

"I'll be right out," she says but doesn't move until he lets out something akin to a snarl and closes the door.

"Thanks for that," Belle says as Emma removes her jeans and shirt. "I'm never uncomfortable with my body usually, but the way he looks at me sometimes..."

"I understand," Emma assures her as she straps on her black platform heels that, even with all her experience in them, still make her feet sore as hell. "Guys are creeps. Especially off the stage."

"I expect it out there," Belle nods. "Coming from Gold, though, it's worse." She looks over Emma's pale pink, lace bikini top with the matching thong with eyebrows raised. "Oh, that's cute."

"Thanks," Emma says back as she shrugs on her white, silk robe over herself, tying it loosely around the middle. "Alright. I'd better get out there before Gold blows a gasket." Belle smirks. "Wish me luck."

"I've seen you out there before-you don't need luck."

Emma smiles back at her as she approaches the beaded curtain. "Maybe so, but a little bit always helps."

The music outside quiets down, and she can hear the chatter of the crowd. She exhales heavily, closing her eyes to steady her heart rate. Even after all these years, she still gets nervous.

"I hope you're all ready for a show." The DJ's disembodied voice echoes over the speaker system, loud and intrusive. "Please welcome our next dancer to the stage, the incredible Baby!"

It's the stupid stage name that her first boss years ago gave to her, a play on her sweet eyes and young face, but she has never seen a reason to change it now. It's gotten her this far, and she's not creative enough to think up something better.

The distinctive beginning to Wicked Games by The Weeknd sounds of the system, and she pushes her way through the curtain. They are still clapping and shouting for her, wolf-whistles piercing the smoke-filled atmosphere. She drops the silk robe dramatically and catwalks to the end of the stage, her body responding mechanically. When the bass drops, so does she, hitting the the floor on all floors like an animal. It elicits more cheering as she dances on the floor, slippery with alcohol and sweat and other things she'd rather not think of. They grin and call out her name, but she looks at them with cold, indifferent eyes. She moves fluidly with immaculate grace. Off that stage, she is a klutz who trips over her own feet. On it, though, something seems to take control of her. Something with an infinite amount of confidence. Something fearless. She dances like she has been possessed by a beautiful, dark entity, and it is an almost heartbreaking display.

When a man at the other side of the bar, one she recognizes as her very own regular with his dark hair and aqua-blue eyes, holds up a wad of money and waves her his way, she obliges, sliding her body over his way. Lifting her upper body over the edge of the stage, she runs one hand through his head and pulls him closer. He is intentionally rough as he pushes the money into the strap of her thong, fingers slipping around to find places they shouldn't. She bites back a violent response, because he is a loyal, paying customer, and she can't afford to lose this job. She leans in almost as if to kiss him, but when his eyes close expectantly, she shoves his head back and slips back to the center of the stage. Wrapping her legs around the brass pole, she begins to climb.

They like her cruel demeanor. It counteracts her sweeter appearance and name, and it excites them. Everyone loves a good dominatrix, and Emma plays the part well.

She thinks of other things while she dances. Of what she'll do the next day. Of Ruby and how she can force her and Dorothy together. She thinks of what she'll have for dinner tomorrow. She thinks of anything but what she is doing as she pulls herself up to the full height of the pole. And then when she reaches the top, she leans her upper body backward in a move that shows off precisely how flexible she is. Then, without a second's hesitation, she relaxes the muscles in her thighs and twirls quickly back down the pole. She closes her eyes as she does so, savoring the feeling of free-falling. Blocking out the cat calls and vulgar gestures.

Inches before she would hit the floor, effectively breaking her neck or worse, her thighs clench again and bring her body to an abrupt halt. It brings more cheers and money from the crowd, and she flips back around to stand on her feet. As the song winds down, she faces them with a thin glimmer of sweat covering her skin and making her look almost angelic. Her eyes are hollow as an arm snakes its way behind her back. As her fingers close around the string of her top, she catches a glimpse of Gold in the back of the club. His arms are crossed, and he glares at her expectantly. She swallows bile before pulling the string free from its loose knot. The top hit the floor, and the crowd all but roared for her. Money was thrown onto the stage, swept up by bouncers to be given to her later-after Gold counted out his house charge, of course. The song ends, and Emma grabs her robe from the floor before walking back through the curtain. She jerks on her robe to cover herself and revels in the comfort the soft, thin material brings her.

"Great job out there," Belle tells her as she drops down into a seat. "You had them eating out of your hand practically."

"Thanks," Emma murmurs, pushing her hair out of her face. Belle exits a few minutes later to walk the floor and sell private dances and drinks. Emma stares at her reflection as she re-ties the back of her top. She takes in the delicate pink lace. The slight flush to her cheeks. The freckles peeking through the thin layer of foundation she had applied earlier. She looks almost innocent then. Almost but not quite.

This job was easier when Henry was younger. Back when, even if he had known, he wouldn't have understood. When he was just a baby. Then, it didn't matter if he happened to see his mother in her work clothes. It didn't matter if he walked in on her applying her makeup or putting her cash away after a shift. Now, she constantly fears that he will figure it out. Already, she knows that he senses her second job isn't something good. She refuses to tell him anything about it and shuts him down whenever he tries to ask. He looks at her suspiciously when she leaves the house late at night in her makeup with a duffel bag only to return in the early morning hours after the club closes at two. She can't let him find out. She can't handle how that would change things between them. How it would change the way he looks at her. She's always been Super Mom to him. She could do anything. He loves her. If he found out what she had to do at night, all of that would change. She'd be dirty to him. Repulsive. He would hate her, and she can't handle even the thought of that.

She blinks at herself, lips pulling down at the ends. No matter what, Henry can never know.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: And here is the first Regina/Emma interaction of the story! Hope you guys like it. Thanks so much for waiting patiently, and thank you for all the kind reviews. I love hearing from you guys. This story is so fun for me to write, and it is wonderfully different than my others on here. I love it, and this may turn out to be my favorite of my own SQ works. I hope you all are enjoying it as much as I am. A tiny warning for smut ahead-don't jump ahead of me, it's not what you think. :) Thanks for reading, and don't forget to drop me some feedback!_

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God, this is dreadful.

Regina busies her hands with refilling the ice bucket in the kitchen while she tries to fight off a burgeoning headache. Of course, the obscenely loud music playing from the next room does not help. It's a Friday night, and Regina wishes more than anything that she was home enjoying a glass of cider and silence. She's never wanted quiet so bad in all her life as she does right now.

She is at her best friend, Kathryn Evans's house, and the small, quaint place is filled to capacity with women. Everyone has some kind of booze in hand, and they've all had far too much for Regina's preference. She hates loud, touchy drunk people, and here she finds herself in the midst of dozens of them.

Tomorrow, Regina will stand up at the altar of the church in town behind Kathryn while she exchanges vows with her fiance, Frederick Knight. Tonight, though, she is following obnoxious, intoxicated bodies around in the hopes of keeping anything from being broken. God, this is not how she planned Kathryn's bachelorette party. As the maid of honor, she had wanted it to be a small, dignified, enjoyable evening for all. Something with class. There would be soft music, everyone would have a socially-acceptable amount of champagne, and they'd share stories of Kathryn's most embarrassing moments before wishing her the best of luck on her coming wedding. Everyone would leave by ten o'clock and get a good night's rest before the ceremony the next day. That is how she had planned it all to a tee.

But that isn't how it is happening, and it is her wicked sister's fault.

Zelena was Kathryn's bridesmaid, and she knew what Regina was going to do for the bachelorette party. Apparently, she had deemed her plan inadequate and had taken steps behind her back to liven it up. Now, the place is packed with far more people than Regina even knew. Everyone, barring the brunette, has had at least five shots of several different liquors. The music is far too loud and booming. The decorations are far from dignified with penises everywhere her eyes lands. And at least six people are currently twerking in the living room, including the bride-to-be herself. Regina hates it all, but the others all seem to be enjoying themselves. So, she keeps her disdain to herself. Well, herself and the idiotic redhead responsible for all this.

"Despicable," Regina mutters to herself as she struggles to wipe something sticky and mysterious off the kitchen island.

"Come on, sis!" An arm is thrown around her, and she glares at her half-sister. Zelena's ginger curls spiral in every direction, and her usually sharp, electric blue eyes are a bit foggy from the excessive amount of alcohol she has consumed over the past hour or so. She smiles sloppily at Regina before taking another sip from her penis-covered, paper cup. "Loosen up, won't you? You're being a real drag. It's a party!"

"It's a disaster," Regina throws back, shoving her arm off her. "You've created an enormous mess. How are any of these people going to get home?"

Zelena shrugs. "They'll sleep wherever they fall."

"Yes? And what if somebody gets sick? Whose responsibility is it to clean it up?"

Zelena's finger flies to her nose, and her eyes cross slightly before refocusing on Regina. "Nose goes."

Regina rolls her eyes, finding none of her sister's idiotic antics amusing. "You ruined Kathryn's party, Zelena."

"Oh, I think not. Come here." She pulls the brunette away from whatever she is cleaning to the living room and gestures to Kathryn. "Look at her." Regina's lips pull down in disgust at her best friend grinding against the wall along to the music. Her eyes are half-closed, blonde hair disheveled, alcohol sloshing out of the top of her cup as she dances-if you could even call it that. But she's smiling and laughing, and Regina can see that really is having a good time. And that is the point of the night after. "She's so happy. It's her last night as a single woman, and it'll be one she remembers."

Regina smirks. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. I doubt anyone here besides myself will remember much of tonight." She points a finger at her sister. "And we'll see how grateful she is to you when she wakes up the morning of her wedding with a hangover from hell."

Zelena chuckles. "Worth it." She grabs a drink from the refreshments table and shoves it into Regina's hands. "Here. You haven't drank anything yet, and I won't have you bringing down everyone's party." She taps her cup to Regina's. "Here's to marriage-may neither of us be as foolish as Kathryn as to enter such bondage." Regina rolls her eyes as Zelena drinks deeply from her cup.

"Regina, Zelena!" Kathryn staggers up to them, the plastic crown crooked on her head and feather flying behind her from the pink boa draped around her neck, and Regina grabs her arms to steady her. Her eyelids, apparently heavy, flutter, and she smiles dumbly. "This party is amazing! Thank you two so much!" She throws her arms around both their necks, and Zelena grins at Regina, who tries her hardest to ignore her.

"We just wanted you to have a good time," Regina says as Kathryn draws back and takes a drink.

"I am," she nods. "Such a good time. The best time of my life."

"I knew you would," Zelena says smugly, and Regina crosses her arms in annoyance. Another song that Regina doesn't recognize comes crashing out of the speakers, and Kathryn's eyes widen.

"I love this song!" She scrambles back to the center of the room and starts dancing again. Regina can't help but laugh at her.

"Ah, that's a genuine smile there," Zelena points out, and the brunette's face immediately falls. "I saw it-you can't take it back now. You're having fun, aren't you? Admit it."

"I'm not having fun," Regina says back stubbornly. "I'm simply not having a terrible time. This party is over-the-top and very crass, but some parts of it are not as awful as the rest."

"And that is as close to a thank you as I'll ever get to you, so I'll take it," Zelena teases.

The doorbell rang, and Regina's brow furrowed.

"Who could that be?" she ponders.

"Probably just someone late to the party," Zelena says quickly-a bit too quickly-and rushes to answer it. "I'll get it!" Regina watches her go with a frown. There's something odd about that. She knows her sister far too well to believe her. She considers following her to find out who it is but is distracted when her name is called.

"Regina!" Kathryn shouts over the music. "Regina, come dance with us!"

She smirks. "No, no. I haven't had nearly enough to drink for that. You keep going without me." Leaning against the doorway, she watches her friend and laughs, wishing she had a camera to record this and show it later to Kathryn who surely won't recall any of it.

The music is paused, bringing Taylor Swift's "Shake it Off" and the dancing to an abrupt halt. A few complaints murmur throughout the room, but they are silenced when Zelena clambers on top of the coffee table dramatically. Regina's eyes narrow. What is she doing now?

"Excuse me, ladies!" Zelena announces with a mile-wide grin and that mischievous grin in place that always means trouble ahead. "Sorry to interrupt, but I've got a special treat in store for the bride-to-be!"

Kathryn lets out a holler, throwing her hands in the air excitedly, as Zelena climbs off the table and helps her into a chair set in the middle of the room. Music starts up dramatically, and Regina is surprised to find that she recognizes this one as "God is a woman"-Ariana Grande is a guilty pleasure of hers. She furrows her brow. What is going on?

The crowd around Kathryn parts, and Zelena takes her place beside her sister, practically vibrating with excitement. Regina is just about to ask what in God's name she has in store when she catches sight of something that knocks all air from her lungs, all thoughts from her mind.

"Oh, my," she lets out in a rush of breath.

A woman prowls forward towards Kathryn. Long, princess curls of pale blonde hair bounce with each step, and cloudy green eyes sparkle in the lighting. She is dressed in a French maid costume-or maybe half of the actual costume-and her long legs are bare, muscles flexing in the sky-high, strappy heels. Pretty red lips pull upward in a smirk, and she leaves behind a trail of sweet-smelling perfume.

She is the most beautiful woman Regina has ever seen, and at seeing so very much of her, she feels a heat pooling in her midsection. And her underwear.

"Great, isn't it?" Zelena cackles. "I picked her myself-she's perfect. I thought of getting a male stripper, but this seems far more fun. I get to embarrass Kathryn and see a hot woman dance. Win-win, eh, sis?"

Regina doesn't respond. She can't. She's too busy gaping at this gorgeous being, too perfect to be real, strut up to a wide-eyed, slack-jawed Kathryn. When she leans forward, resting her hands on the arms of the chair, a small squeak comes out of the bride-to-be. Regina catches their words over the music, though it is hard to focus when, at her bent angle, Regina can just make out the curve of the woman's peeking out under lace and silk.

"Hi," the blonde goddess says to Kathryn, who can't find the words to answer. "I hear you're getting married tomorrow. Congratulations."

"T-Thanks," Kathryn stammers.

"So, I'm being paid to give you a personal dance," she continues, and there is a seriousness in her eyes. "But before I do that, I want to ask if you're comfortable with this."

"Comfortable?" Kathryn repeats.

The woman grins at her. "Okay, maybe not comfortable. But do I have your consent?"

Regina is surprised by that. The woman won't get paid unless she dances, and if she doesn't, she's come out here for nothing. For her to care, to ask for Kathryn's permission to do her job, is thoughtful and considerate. Something Regina wouldn't have expected from a woman in her profession.

Kathryn hesitates only a moment before nodding. "Yes, you do."

The blonde's grin widens and deepens the dimples that melt Regina's insides. "Good. Let's begin then, shall we?"

She dances like nothing Regina has ever seen before. The grace of her movements, the beauty is indescribable. So entrancing. So... erotic. No one cheers or laughs or hoots. They all stare on at this show of unrivaled skill in reverence. The costume is peeled off one article at a time, but she doesn't divest entirely, leaving herself in a matching pair of white, silk underwear. Ivory skin glistens slightly as she dances over Kathryn, sinewy muscles working and stretching so deliciously. When she straddles her client's lap, hovering just over her legs, Regina feels something she doesn't recognize. Yes, it is arousal-there's not point to deny it. But there's something wallowing down in the pit of stomach as well. Something bitter. Something green.

The song ends as does the dance, and the woman stands up straight. Kathryn, seated in her chair, is a deep shade of crimson, eyes even more glazed over than before. No one is unaffected by the show, even the straightest women in the room. Which Regina is not. Her blood has not run this hot since she was a constantly horny teenager, and her skin feels itchy and bothersome.

The woman turns to Zelena, who grins widely and claps along with the other. "Excellent job. Better than I hoped for."

The blonde woman smiles widely-there are those goddamn dimples again-as she walks with purpose up to Zelena. "Glad I met your standards." Then, without warning, she grabs either side of Zelena's face, jerks her forward, and plants a firm kiss on the side of her cheek. Laughter and cheers erupt at this, especially when Zelena withdraws flushed with lipstick printed on her face.

The woman giggles, and it is an adorable sound, uncharacteristic for the sensual dancer who had just captivated the entire room. She takes a bow and straightens back up, flipping her thick hair back and wafting her delicious scent into Regina's face. Then, she turns slightly, and their eyes clash. And Regina realizes then that she has been holding her breath for God knows how long, and she releases it as she drowns in those jade irises. Closer than before, she absorbs every detail of the woman. The way her lips always seem, even when she smiles, to pull down ever-so-slightly at the ends. The high, prominent cheekbones. The faint dusting of freckles across those cheeks and her nose.

God, she is more beautiful than she thought.

And perhaps she reads something in Regina's eyes that the brunette did not mean to expose. Perhaps she sees the awe. Perhaps she sees the desire and the aching want there. And, maybe, she sees the jealousy. The wish to be the one seated in the chair. To have lipstick smeared on her face. Perhaps she sees all that, because she gives Regina a peculiar look. She pulls on her coat, wrapping her exposed self up and bids Kathryn good luck again. The bubbly blonde, now recovered from her initial shock, throws her arms around the woman and thanks her. She invites her to stay for some drinks and fun, but the woman refuses. She throws out a goodbye and a small wave, eyes lingering briefly on Regina again with questions in them, before opening the front door and disappearing into the night.

The party ends, much as Zelena predicted, when everyone passes out in random spots in the house. Regina doesn't worry herself with them, only Kathryn, who she carries up the stairs to her bedroom. The blonde passes out immediately, murmuring into her pillow. Regina stays the night as well to make sure that everyone wakes up on time in the morning to prepare for the wedding. Settling into the terribly uncomfortable bed in one of the guest rooms, she stares up at the shadowy ceiling and thinks back to the woman from before. Somehow, she can't seem to make herself call her a stripper. Because that wasn't stripping-at least not what Regina thinks stripping is. It wasn't cheap or trashy. It was beautiful and somewhat heartbreaking. It was art, and it... did things to Regina. It is still doing things to her, she realizes, when her thighs rub together, and she feels a renewed dampness between them. Her hand, against her will, slips down and under the waistband of her pants. She gasps at the soaked fabric of her panties, eyes widening. God, when is the last time this happened to her? Just the thought of the woman makes her dripping. Those golden tresses and smoldering eyes. The way she moved like a predator. How her clothes slipped down her smooth skin.

Regina bites off a moan when her fingers push under her panties and make contact with her throbbing flesh. Obscenely wet sounds fill the otherwise silent room as she sinks two fingers easily inside herself. Her thumb rubs lightly against her already swollen clit, and she can't hold back a small cry at the electric pulse that runs through her body in response. Eyes closed as she chews on her lower lip, her free hand finds its way under her shirt to knead her breasts. She pulls at her hardened nipples, and a low, gravelly noise rumbles from her chest.

She can see the woman in front of her, this beautiful mystery of a woman whose name she doesn't even know. She is dancing against her, skin rubbing on skin. Those eyes are trained on nothing but her, and small lips drop a kiss on her neck.

"Regina," she breathes in that sweet, airy voice, and Regina can even smell her there. Two fingers become three, and she pumps them mercilessly inside herself. "Regin-ah." She whimpers at the breathy pronunciation. "Will you come for me, Regina?"

And that's all it takes. Diminishing a scream to a moan that is too loud to be decent, Regina's back arches off the bed, and, with a curl of her fingers, she comes into her own sticky hand. She struggles to even her breathing out, and her eyes flutter open as she touches back down into the bed. God, when was the last she did that? She can't even remember. And she doesn't think she has ever come that hard on her own before. Yeah, that dancer definitely does things to her, and even if she can't have her, she finds that the memory is a very fulfilling substitute.

Regina turns over on her side and falls asleep with a contented smile on her face.


	6. Chapter 6

"Ma. Ma, wake up. _Ma!"_

Emma jumps awake, eyes snapping open to find Henry staring at her uncertainly from where he stands beside the sofa. Sofa? Why isn't she in her marginally more comfortable bed? God, she must've crashed as soon as she got in the night before-she had been exhausted. The late nights at the club and early mornings at Granny's are getting to her.

"Henry," she groans and drops her head back into the stiff throw pillow. "Don't. It's too early. Go back to bed."

"So, you just want me to skip school today then?" he says.

Lifting her head again, she furrows her brow, taking in his jeans and T-shirt. "What? No, it's not time yet. I just got in like... an hour ago."

He gives her a sympathetic look. "No, Ma. You didn't." He holds up his watch for her, and her eyes widen to the size of plates. Seven-fifty. He's got to be at school in ten minutes, and she's got to be at work in twenty.

"Shit." She bounds to her feet and races to the bathroom. A look in the mirror at her smeared, leftover makeup has her grimacing, and she scrubs it off furiously with a wipe while simultaneously brushing her teeth. She jerks the tangles out of her hair before piling it up on the top of her head. Sprinting to her bedroom, she throws a shirt on and steps into her jeans.

"I'm going to be late," Henry calls from the kitchen while enjoying a sugar-filled cereal bar.

"No, you're going to be on time." Emma hops back into the living room as she pulls her shoes on. "I'm going to get you to that school on time if it kills me."

"Well, we've got five minutes," Henry states, following her out the door. "I know you're capable of some amazing stuff, Ma, but I don't think even you could manage that."

She bounds down the stairwell and shakes her head. "Oh, ye of little faith."

Five minutes later, and Emma pulls up to Storybrooke Middle School with a squeal of complaint from her brakes. Both their bodies jolt with the car, held securely in place by their seat belts. Henry looks dumbstruck at his mother, and she grins back at him, tongue poking out between her teeth.

"Is now the time to say I told you so, or should I wait until you come to the diner this afternoon to rub it in front of Ruby and Granny?" she says.

"We nearly died, like, five times," he points out, shouldering his bag and opening the car door. "And I'm pretty sure I've got mild whiplash now."

"I told you I'd get you here on time," she reminds him. "I never said anything about what kind of condition you'd be in upon arrival." He grins as he climbs out of the car. "Have a good day, kid. I love you."

"Love you, too, Ma," he says back. "Have fun at work."

She smiles. "Serving burgers to impatient customers? How could I not?"

The door closes, and she stays to watch him disappear inside the doors of the school. She can vaguely make out the figure of someone waiting for him inside the glass doors, though she can't tell apart any features, and smiles slightly as the woman places a hand on his shoulder. It's a soft, affectionate gesture, and she wonders if perhaps that isn't the infamous Ms. Mills she has heard so much about from her son. She'll have to make sure and meet her soon. Thank her for all she's done with and for him so far.

As she's leaving, she calls the diner to ask Granny if she can have an hour to head back to the apartment and get fully dressed, which the old woman begrudgingly allows. She showers and dresses in her work uniform. Down the hall, a pot of coffee is already brewing and waits for her when she steps into the kitchen. She inhales the glorious smell of hot caffeine and pours herself a cup. Waiting for it to cool, she cracks her neck and winces. That sofa is shit for sleeping.

After she finishes her coffee, Emma slips into her shoes and leaves for work. The drive over is quiet, and her mind wanders in the silence of a peaceful, Storybrooke morning. She thinks back to the night before. The club had been especially packed, and she'd done a few more shows on stage than usual. A few private dances, as well. She doesn't like those, but they do pay well. Just to reserve a private room is a hundred dollars, and every minute past the initial half-hour is calculated into the charge. Not very many customers are willing to spend that kind of money upfront-no matter the fact that, if they were to count up how many singles they throw out in one night, they'd find they spend double that. Smalls bills don't seem as intimidating as big ones, though, and she isn't about to start giving her customers financial advice.

There is one guy who comes almost every night, and he always buys a private dance from her. Her most faithful regular. Mister tall, dark, and handsome himself. He introduced himself as Killian Jones before she gave him his first lap dance, which she promptly forgot as soon as he told her. He kept showing up, though, and he kept paying her nicely. So, she took the time and effort to remember his name-it seemed like the least she could do for a guy dropping so much money on her four nights a week. He is paying her rent, after all.

She's starting to get a little worried about him, though. She danced for him last night, and he got handsy. Touching her when he knows it is against house rules. Not out of an respect of the dancers or preservation of their safety, but, as Gold always says so gleefully, touching costs extra. Lots extra. Emma hadn't said anything to Killian during the dance since he didn't cross any major boundaries, but she made sure to remind him afterward that the club was a gallery only, not an interactive experience. To that, he only smiled back at her that mischievous smile that she is sure makes a million girls a day swoon. And she can admit that he is a conventionally handsome man, and, for the most part, he seems agreeable enough. One of the better customers she has ever had. But he wears eyeliner, and he has a beard, and he is a man. She hasn't felt any honest-to-God sexual or romantic attraction for a man in, well, ever. Any guys she was with in her past were simply because she was there and so were they, and wasn't that the way she was supposed to feel? Shouldn't she want to kiss them? Fuck them? That's what she'd always been told and shown. It's what she expected.

Took her quite a while to figure out why she never climaxed with a man, or why, when she touched herself, she always fantasized about women. When she did accept it, though, she had felt reborn out of a lie and into the truth of who she is. Emma Swan. Major lesbo.

Which reminds her of a work call a few nights ago that she had thoroughly enjoyed. That bachelorette party was a ball. She loves housecalls like that. Honestly, she has no aversion to stripping itself. She's always liked to dance, and it gives her a confidence that she's never felt before in her life. There's nothing to boost a girl's self esteem like commanding a room, demanding their attention, adoration, and respect. It's the clubs she doesn't like. The cat-callers and gropers. The ones who make obscene remarks and gestures towards. They make it dirty. They try to demean her. To steal that confidence that she holds so close to her heart with their mortifying, repulsive behavior. That is why she is so cold when she's on stage. That's why she shuts herself down, why she grabs their wrists and spews acerbic insults when they get too physical. That's why she treats them like filth under her shoes-because, goddammit, they are. Above all else, she demands to be treated with respect, even if she's taking her clothes off in the process. And damn if she lets them or Gold or anyone else take that tiny morsel of power away from her.

That poor bride. Kathryn, Emma recalls. She hopes her wedding was perfect for all the hell she and the redhead put her through. By the time Emma finished her dance over her, the woman looked like she could pass out at any minute. Red-faced, sweating, eyes bulging, chest heaving. No doubt questioning her sexuality. Emma smirks to herself. She knows that no one, gay, straight, bi, or otherwise, can hold themselves together when a half-dressed-she hadn't even been half-dressed, to be honest-dances and pants over them. It is impossible not to respond physically to that kind of heated, intimate display. Emma had taken pity on her, though, and decided that she would not be the only one to be embarrassed that night. The redhead who hired her, Zelena is her name, seemed to enjoy the blonde's discomfort far too much, and Emma couldn't help but knock her down a few pegs. From her previous interactions with the woman, she seemed like she needed something to bring her enormous ego down a level or two. Emma immensely enjoyed how her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red than her hair when she smacked her lips there.

Or rather she had until her eyes happened to swivel over to the right and were met with the most beautiful shade of amber she'd ever seen.

"Morning, Em," Ruby greets when she enters the diner. "Nice of you to show."

"Hectic morning," she says back.

"I feel that. Tables two, five, and six are all yours."

"Thanks, Rubes," Emma smiles at her before diving headfirst into a hungry breakfast rush.

She doesn't get a minute of rest for another two hours when the crowd vacates, and the only customers left are nursing their coffee quietly while reading their newspapers. Leaning against the counter, Emma mans the front of the kitchen while Ruby takes over dish-washing in the kitchen. To at least appear busy, she refills salt and pepper shakers absently as her thoughts drift once again.

God, those eyes. Emma has never seen anything like them before. She'd felt those eyes. They'd burned her like lit coals smoldering under a wild fire, emitting sparks. But the eyes were only the first thing for her to notice of her. Her gaze lingered down and caught sight of deliciously plump, red lips with a peculiar scar hovering above the top one. She'd absorbed smooth, tan skin that looked so soft and alluring and dark, silky hair that framed her face in a perfect bob that just begged for Emma to mess it up with her fingers. And then there was her body. Holy shit, was there her body. That tight red dress with the narrow opening in the chest, just enough to show off what was underneath, should've been illegal for the things it did to Emma. The woman was a fucking goddess, and just thinking of her takes Emma's breath away all over again.

Nobody, not even Rachel fucking Weisz, has ever had that kind of affect on her before.

As if that wasn't enough, Emma is still haunted by the look in those scorching eyes. She has seen it before, but it has never been quite like that before. It was desire, and it was jealousy, but it dug down deep into Emma. It was so... so wanton. So chaotic. It was the kind of look that said this mysterious beauty would've liked nothing more than to rip what little clothes Emma was wearing off and dance with her. And the thought of that almost had Emma throwing her into the nearest locked room for a private dance of her own. God, it still sends a shiver down her spin.

Sexually speaking, Emma has always been the one to hold the power. It's her job, has been ever since she realized when Henry was born that her daytime gig wouldn't be enough to care for herself and a baby. She is controlled. She is disciplined. She doesn't act rashly, and she doesn't lose herself in lust. She's good at what she does, and she's developed a reputation for being calm and collected. But this woman threatened all of that. This woman had her shaking with desire. This woman had her touching herself later that night. This woman had her muffling her screams into her pillow. Because there was just something so fucking hot about this woman who appeared so reserved and polite on the outside staring at her with those hungry, fuck-me eyes. Emma wants to know her. She needs to. She wants to fulfill the dirty, naughty desire she saw locked deep inside those eyes. She wants to get under her skin. She wants to touch her deeper than she's ever been touched before. She wants to pull her apart, nerve-by-nerve, and then piece her back together. She wants to give her pleasure that she will never forget, and she wants to take some of that for herself as well.

"Emma!"

Granny's gruff voice jerks her out of her trance, and she jumps.

"What?" she says, blinking. "I was just..."

"Day-dreaming," the old woman growls back. "And I think that shaker's got enough salt, girl." Emma looks down at the over-flowing salt shaker she is still filling and stops immediately with a curse.

"Sorry," she murmurs, cleaning the mess up quickly. "I'm just not feeling myself today, I suppose."

"Everyone's entitled to an off day or two," Granny tells her. "Just try and keep your head here where it belongs."

"Will do, Granny." Emma sighs and combs her fingers through her hair. She is going to have to stop that kind of thinking before she gets herself fired.

Those eyes flash in her mind again, and she smirks to herself darkly. _Save that for later tonight, Swan._


	7. Chapter 7

"And what do you think of George and Lennie's dream of having their own farm one day? Do you believe it was ever a possibility for them? And what are the implications of this? What could this farm symbolize within the greater scheme of the story?"

Regina stands at the front of her classroom as she poses the question to the group discussion that has been initiated among her students. It is a good class-everyone is paying attention and almost everyone, barring Roland and his buddies who chuckle between each other in the back of the room, is participating. It is rare that her students, even her best ones, are this attentive, and Regina really should be basking in their clear enjoyment and comprehension of the assigned text. It doesn't come as much of a surprise; _Of Mice and Men_ always seems to grab the kids' attention. It is far too sad, too touching for even a group of twelve and thirteen-year-olds to dismiss.

She should be hanging on every word spoke in the room, but she isn't. Her mind wanders back, back several nights before to a bachelorette party that had been far from enjoyable. Or, at least, it had until about eleven forty-five when the most alluring creature Regina had ever seen waltzed in and officially took control of the entire house. God, she was magnificent. She sees those golden curls bouncing along with the rhythm of the song. She sees soft green eyes piercing every breathing being in the room, rendering them speechless behind dark mascara and sparkling eye shadow. She sees a body, barely clothed at all, rocking side-to-side. Abs flexing. Legs stretching, long and nimble. Arms-glorious arms that looked like they could lift a car off the ground-gripping the chair as she twirled around it. And then there was that ass.

A heat coils deep in Regina's midsection, and she feels her face burn at the realization. This is not the time nor place for that, and she quickly tries to dismiss the thoughts. But even without picturing the woman who had her so moonstruck, she couldn't rid herself of that lusty desire. Because there was more to her than just her physical beauty, although that much was enough on its own. No, much of it was how she carried herself. The confidence in every step. When she entered that living room, she demanded not only everyone's attention but there respect as well. She made it clear that she wasn't just some cheap, half-assed stripper. No, she was a dancer. An artist, and she was there to do far more than simply entertain. She came there to enamor her audience, and enamor she did.

Even her perfume had Regina besotted. It was not the average perfume one might smell on a woman, not sweet or entirely floral. Not sugary, not spicy, not soapy. It was decidedly androgynous with several tones to it. The top note was lavender. Soft and soothing. There was a hint of jasmine and a bite of cypress. And, in the base notes, there was the delicious aroma of sandalwood. A strange blend overall, but each smell came together into a light, clean fragrance that had Regina's knees weakening.

God, it was as if this woman was created specifically as her very own Kryptonite.

"Ms. Mills?"

She blinks and looks up at her class, who all stare at her curiously. Oh no. What had she missed in her stupid reflections.

"Y-Yes?" she says back, frowning at her weakened voice and clearing her throat.

"Are you okay?" Violet asks her. "You seem... distracted."

"We answered the question, like, five minutes ago, and you didn't say anything," Henry adds.

"I apologize, kids," she says, one hand pressed against her chest to stifle the heavy pounding of her heart. "I'm afraid my mind is elsewhere today. I..." She trails off, an excuse slipping out of her grasp as they wait expectantly for one. Oh, God. What can she say? _I'm sorry, but I'm just too hot and bothered over a stripper to focus on class today._ Yes, that would go over very well with the school board.

Mercifully, the final dismissal bell rings, and her students lose all interest in her strange behavior as they pack up and leave for the day. The teacher saved by the bell. Ironic.

"Have a good day," she sighs and slinks back to her desk. Her forehead falls into her hands, and she silently curses her lack of self discipline. This is ridiculous. She is a grown woman-not some easily excitable teenager controlled by her hormones. She has more control than this.

Or, at least, she did before that night. Honestly, she hasn't felt this way about anyone in ages, and it is a bit unsettling how much the woman has captivated her. She'd call it an unhealthy obsession if it didn't feel so good. Never before has masturbation been so gratifying. She can't even recall feeling such satisfaction with an actual partner before-that is how intense just the memory of her is. It seems the blonde woman has flipped Regina's entire world on its axis, and she barely even recognizes herself. And she doesn't even know her damn name.

"Get a hold of yourself," Regina hisses to herself, pushing her hair back out of her face and taking a large gulp of her iced water-she needs the cold in her system. She needs to focus for now. She can think about the woman later that night, as she'd done every single night since she'd first seen her. It is only the promise of later that allows her to concentrate on grading the stack of essays that has been gathering on her desk for the past few days. Even so, her mind drifts every few minutes beyond her control, and it takes a firm mental slap to bring herself back to attention. It feels like going through a second puberty, and she worries for a moment if perhaps it is menopause that has her hormones out of whack, but she dismisses the idea. She is thirty-two, far too young for that stage of life. And doesn't menopause kill your sex drive? Hers had been amped up to an almost unbearable level. Maybe those vitamins her doctor recommended are finally kicking in.

"Regina!"

She lifts her head and spies a small woman standing in the doorway. She recognizes the dark, short hair and green eyes of Mary Margaret Blanchard immediately, and she puts on an irritated look as if the art teacher were actually interrupting something important rather than her internal musings on her reinvigorated sexuality stimulated by an enigmatic woman. Her lip curls slightly, and her eyes harden. She has worked with Mary Margaret for six years, and it had taken only minutes into meeting her to know that she simply did not like her. The woman was far too... positive. That made Regina sound ridiculous, but it is true. She's chirpy-ironic considering how she has her students making stupid birdhouses all the time. She is self-righteous, considering herself to be the authority on all things moral. Engaging in polite conversation with the nit-wit is barely tolerable for Regina, and so she does everything within her power to ensure she hardly ever has to. Her distaste for the woman is no secret, not even to Mary Margaret herself, though she often tries to make Regina warm up to her. Which only makes her hate her more.

"Ms. Blanchard." Her voice comes out dull and, without doubt, annoyed. What could the idiot want? Not to invite her to another brunch with tea and cookies, she hopes to God. Regina had been roped into that only once before, and she swore it would never happen again. "What do you want?"

There is not even the pretense of kindness in the question or her tone.

Mary Margaret flinches slightly at the venom spat at her, but she doesn't allow it to hinder her as she moves further into the room. The look in her eyes, one of distress and seriousness, furrows Regina's brow. It isn't often Mary Margaret is seen without that insipid, happy-go-lucky smile on her face.

"I thought you might want to know," she says, twiddling her thumbs nervously in front of her. The movement irritates Regina an unspeakable amount. "I was hanging up more of the kids' birdhouses outside." Of course you were, Regina snarls internally. "And I heard some commotion near the soccer field. I went out there, and there was a fight going on behind the bleachers. Five boys."

Regina frowns. "Why are you telling me this?"

Mary Margaret swallows. "Because one of the boys is one I've noticed you have a vested interest in."

"Spit it out," Regina growls at her impatiently.

She sighs. "Regina... it was Henry. He was one of the boys." Gasping, Regina stands to her feet.

"What? He was fighting? No, that can't be. He wouldn't..."

"I don't think he picked it, Regina. The other boys-it was Roland and his friends." Regina's nostrils flare in anger. "They ganged up on him, four to one. Henry didn't have a chance. I thought you'd want to hear about it as soon as possible."

"Where is he?" she demands, already rushing for the door. Mary Margaret followed her to the hallway but stopped there. She knows the wrath of Regina Mills, and she'd rather not be in the immediate vicinity when she blew her top completely.

"Principal's office," she answers, watching her colleague, a vision of fury and determination, storm down the breezeway. The clicking of her heels served as an omen for any oncoming traffic-get out of the or be mowed over. Mary Margaret sighs as the woman who, for reasons she isn't sure, despises her so disappears around the corner. "Good luck, Regina."

Five minutes later, Regina arrives at the administration building and stomps up to Principal Belfrey's office. She finds Henry sitting on the bench outside the office, head hanging low. Her heart quickens as does her pace at the sight of him.

"Henry," she breathes out, and he lifts his head. She gasps. His eye is black, his nose smeared with blood, and his lip split. "Oh, Henry."

His eyes immediately glisten with tears he fights to hold back, and his lower lip wobbles uncontrollably. "M-Ms. Mills. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-I wasn't looking for a fight, I swear. Roland and his cronies just came after me."

"Shh, Henry, it's okay." Sitting beside him, she wraps an arm around him, and he leans into her. "I know. Ms. Blanchard told me." He sniffles. "What happened, Henry?"

"I went to soccer tryouts after school today," he mumbles lowly. "Y'know, because I wanted to play, and Violet said I should. And I was leaving after when Roland and his friends jumped me behind the bleachers. He told me to stay away from Violet, or else they'd make me. I told them to drop it and leave me alone. That Violet is her own person and can decide who she wants to hang out with. That wasn't what they wanted to hear, apparently. I tried to walk away, but they pushed me down and just started pounding on me. I couldn't even fight back-there were too many of them. I just curled up and tried to cover my face." He shakes his head. "I tried really hard to be good this time."

"And you have," Regina assures him, squeezing his arms. "Henry, this was not your fault. They started it. You didn't even get a chance to fight back. They are bullies, and they targeted you. No one can blame you for what happened."

"I'll bet Principal Belfrey can," he grumbles, and she frowns. The school's principal has a reputation for being a stiff-necked, iron-fisted woman, and while Regina agrees a certain amount of strictness is required when working with children, the things she has seen from her boss are borderline cruel. Needless to say, she is not a big fan of the woman's.

"All you have to do is tell her the truth," Regina says. "Honesty is always the best policy, Henry." She combed his bangs out of his eyes. "Where is your mother?"

"On her way," he replies. "I called her a few minutes ago. She had to leave work early, but she told me she'd be here as soon as she can."

The door to Principal Belfrey's office opens, and they watch as two people emerge. One is Roland, physically unscathed from the fight but looking visibly disturbed. Gripping his shoulders tightly with a too-straight back is his father, Robin. His face is a mask of stone, blue eyes unreadable. They glance over at Regina and Henry, and she gives him a sympathetic look in response. She doesn't know Robin extremely well, but she does know that he is a relatively well-intentioned man, if lacking any follow-through. She has met with him a few times before regarding Roland's behavior in class, and she knows how he struggles with his son. After his wife passed away only a year before, both of them had grappled with their grief. Roland dealt with the loss by acting out, and Robin has no clue how to respond. Regina understands the plight. Being too hard on him could cause further emotional damage, but being too soft would only encourage the misbehavior. She sympathizes with him, but she also knows that he has to do something. Roland has always been a troublemaker, but now he hurt Henry. She cannot, will not allow that to slide.

Robin and Roland say not a word as they pass by, and neither do Regina and Henry.

"Mr. Swan?" A curt, prim voice calls out from inside the office, and Henry swallows nervously before looking at Regina pleadingly.

"Come with me?" he asks her. "Please, Ms. Mills. At least until my mom gets here. I don't want to be alone with her."

Regina gives him a small smile and nods. "Of course, Henry."

The two stand and enter the office together.

Principal Victoria Belfrey is a woman who, in one look, anyone can tell is the administrator of something. It is in the way she carries herself, her stiff back and cold, dispassionate eyes. One would not expect her to be the administrator of _children_ , though. She lacks any kind of compassion, any warmth or even a slight drop of maternal nature, despite being a mother herself. She is callous. Bitter. Sullen. And Regina doesn't care for her at all.

One shaded eyebrow lifts at Regina, but no surprise is shown on her face. No emotion at all, actually. Of course. Revealing she is capable of feeling would be a weakness. "Ms. Mills. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm here with Henry," Regina answers resolutely, taking the seat beside him as they both face the woman across the desk from them. "For him."

"Indeed." Victoria turns her attention to Henry, who shrinks a bit in his seat. Instinctively, Regina takes his hand in hers and squeezes for support. If her boss finds this interesting, she hides it. "And where is your mother, Mr. Swan? You were supposed to have called her while I spoke with Mr. Hood and his father."

"I-I did," Henry squeaks out. "She was at work-she's on her way now."

"Well, we don't have time to wait around all day for her," Victoria states while shuffling some papers on her desk. She flattens them under her palms before looking back at Henry, and the darkness in her eyes is enough to make him tremble. "You were informed upon transferring to this school that we have a zero tolerance policy for fighting. Weren't you, Mr. Swan?"

"But I-"

"Weren't you?" It comes out sharp and cutting, and whatever Henry had planned to say dies in his throat.

"Y-Yes, Principal Belfrey," he whispers.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I was informed."

"I thought as much. So, can you explain to me why you decided to break that rule today?"

"He didn't decide to break it," Regina speaks up, and Victoria steeples her fingers impatiently. "Henry was victimized by a group of bullies today. If I'm not mistaken, Storybrooke Middle School also has a zero tolerance policy for bullying."

"Be that as it may," Victoria says, narrowing her eyes, "I have looked over Mr. Swan's transcripts. This does appears to be a habit of his, and I have no room for that kind of intentional violence in my school."

"It wasn't intentional," Henry says. "I tried to walk away from it-Roland and the others started it."

"Well, that is certainly not the story they've told."

"Do you honestly think he instigated the fight?" Regina demands and struggles to keep herself calm as she tenses in the chair. Henry notices and squeezes her hand this time to help her relax. It works, and she eases back in her seat. "It was four against one-why would any sane boy pick those odds? I mean, look at his face compared to the other boys. I think it's fairly clear who was responsible for the violence."

"Regardless, we must-"

The door is thrown open behind Regina, and delectably familiar scent wafts to her nostrils.

"Sorry, I'm late," a voice breathes out. A woman runs to Henry's side, her face concealed by thick, messy blonde hair. She kneels in front of him and runs her hands gently over his face, cataloging his injuries. Regina hears her breath catch. "Oh my God. Henry, are you okay?"

"Ma." He buries his face in her shoulder, and she wraps her arms around him tightly. "I'm okay. I'm really glad you're here."

"It's alright, kid. We're going to straighten this out. I promise." She kisses his forehead before standing up and turning to Victoria. "Whose ass do I need to kick for this?"

Her hand comes up and tucks her curtain of hair behind her ear, and Regina finally gets a look at her face. Her stomach drops, and her eyes widen as they take in the green eyes, freckled cheeks, and pulled-down lips. She gasps. It can't be. She must be hallucinating. It just isn't possible.

Those eyes drop down to her at the sound of her gasp, and the blonde's mouth falls open in shock. Regina knows just by her expression that it isn't a hallucination. This really is happening.

Her chest tightens, and she thinks maybe she will be sick. Green eyes are still trained on her when those lips, the ones that she has dreamed so many times of pressing against her own-any many other less innocent places-part in a puff of air.

The words come out seemingly without intention and fill the silence hanging in the room. "Oh, shit."

Yes, Regina must agree. If ever there was an "oh, shit" moment of her life, it is now.

Henry's mother. The dancer from the party. The subject of Regina's current fantasies. All three of these women stand before her in one.

* * *

 _A/N: Dun, dun, dun! There it is-the moment of realization we've all been waiting for. Oh, you guys. This chapter might have been the most fun to write yet. I hope the build-up was worth it. The plot's starting to thicken now, and things are going to get more and more interesting. Next chapter, we see Emma's reaction and response to this revelation. So, stay tuned. ;)_


	8. Chapter 8

Emma leans over the diner counter, grinning widely as she watches Ruby wiping furious circles into the front windows. Her crush is late-she didn't come walking by at the expected 1:45, and so the waitress is a total wreck wondering what possibly could've happened. Every moment she isn't with a customer she spends cleaning the front windows. Emma wonders just how much more Windex they can take before they shatter under all the attention.

"Rubes, why don't you-"

And then here she comes, walking down the street with her hand in her pockets. Brown hair is pulled back in a loose braid, and the teal, plaid shirt she wears makes the green of her eyes pop. Smiling to herself, Emma leans back and crosses her arms.

"Bingo," she mutters.

"That why she's been at the windows for the past hour-and-a-half?" Emma blinks down at the man seated in front of her at the diner's bar, a regular with a serious love for beer named Leroy. Everyone else seems not to care for his perpetually grumpy disposition, but Emma kind of likes him. So, the guy doesn't blow sunshine and rainbows out his ass constantly-he's alright otherwise, and he's hilarious once he has a few beers in him.

"All that over some broad?" he demands.

Emma rolls her eyes at him. "Mind your business and eat your burger, or you won't get a beer at five." Leroy usually comes to the diner at three and hangs there until Ruby or Emma see fit to serve him alcohol, usually at five o'clock.

He puts up his hands in surrender and pretends to zip his lip. "Not a peep from me. And it's five o'clock somewhere, y'know?"

"Yeah, but not here." Emma moves from behind the bar and looks up just in time to see Dorothy glance up as she enters the hardware store. She notices Ruby gaping at her from the window apparently, because she smiles a bit at her and waves her hand. Ruby, a shaking, shell-shocked mess, raises her hand as well and returns it mechanically. From behind her, Emma stifles a giggle and watches Dorothy enter the store.

Leaning forward, she rests her chin on the waitress's shoulder. "Smooth, Rubes."

Ruby jumps in surprise and turns to glower at a chuckling Emma. "Not funny, Em. And I wasn't doing anything-just cleaning the windows."

"I never said otherwise," Emma grins and elbows her. "So, after weeks and weeks of watching her from afar like some creep, you got a smile and wave from her. That is some progress right there."

"I'm not a creep," Ruby snaps defensively.

"Whoa, whoa. Easy there. Don't bite me. Fine-you aren't a creep. You've just spent the last month-and-a-half surveying a girl walk down the street and into the hardware store. Not a creep."

Ruby frowns. "Okay, so maybe that does have a little creep factor to it. God, I'm pathetic."

Emma throws an arm around her. "No way. I mean, if we had hit the two-month mark with no response from her, it might have been pathetic. But you got a smile and wave. That is some serious body language."

Ruby furrows her brow. "It is?"

"Um, absolutely. She was totally flirting. She just totally non-verbally communicated that she wants your smoking hot bod, Rubes. Weren't you listening?"

It is the first time Emma has ever seen her friend blush, and she is proud to have put the color there. "Emma! She totally did not say that."

"Babe, I know a thing or two about saying things with one's body movements. I'm kind of an old vet. She is into you. You should talk to her."

"Oh, yeah, because Granny would totally let me waltz out there while on the clock to ask out my high school crush," Ruby huffs, crossing her arms.

"She's right," Granny pipes in from the kitchen. "I wouldn't let her."

"You've just got to think of another way," Emma shrugs. "Maybe, when she comes back through, you can try washing the windows from the _outside_. That's where all the bugs hit it anyways."

"I couldn't..." Ruby trails off thoughtfully. "The outside?" Her eyes widen, and she looks at Emma with that enormous, toothy grin that reminds her of the Big Bad Wolf. "Oh my God, Emma! You're a genius!"

Emma smiles and flips her hair. "I am aware. Now, you'd better get out there. You might be able to catch her on her way out."

"Oh, no, I can't," Ruby says and earns an annoyed look from the blonde. "I mean, I can't right now. Not today. It's too soon. I haven't had a chance to plan out every conversation possibility yet. I mean, how do I even initiate it? Does the situation call for a 'hey' or a 'hi'? What if she asks me how I'm doing? Am I 'fine' or 'good' or 'great'? There are so man contingencies I haven't counted for."

"Wow," Leroy says gruffly from his seat. "You're pretty pathetic, Sister." Ruby clenches her jaw at him.

"And you just bumped yourself back to six o'clock, buddy," Emma informs him, and his grin falls away. "Keep trying, and maybe you won't get any beer at all today."

Dropping his head and busying himself with the newspaper before him, he grumbles something that sounds a lot like "beer Nazis," and Emma smiles to herself.

"Rubes, don't overthink this," Emma advises her with a pat on the shoulder. "It's just a conversation, yeah? Not a date yet. There is no need to get too overwhelmed." She can still see the gears turning in her friend's head, and she sighs. "Okay. So, I see I won't be able to talk you down from this ledge. So, if you'd like, I'll stay after my shift and help you plan out how you're going to talk to her."

Ruby's face brightens like Henry's on Christmas morning. "Really? Oh, Emma! You're the best friend a girl could have!" She throws her arms around the blonde excitedly, who chuckles in response.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she says and smiles when Granny barks at them to get back to work.

Emma is fairly certain she can be of help to Ruby. She has always been a good flirt, and talking with hot girls especially is like second nature to her. She's never had a crush she couldn't win over with a crooked grin and some of her good, down-home, self-deprecating humor. She wouldn't exactly call herself suave, but Emma Swan has got game.

Well, maybe barring one individual. She thinks back to those burning eyes and feels the familiar tightening in her midsection. Yeah, she imagines if she were ever face-to-face with that dark-haired beauty again she'd be a stuttering, nervous wreck. She's thought too much about her. Obsessed over her, almost. Not to mention, she's spent the last few nights getting her kicks to the sheer memory of her, to the fantasies of what she would do to her if the situation ever arose. That is too much attention on one person, and it would psych Emma out if she were ever formally meet the woman. But the odds of that happening aren't exactly high considering she doesn't even know her name.

From her pants pocket, Emma's phone begins to ring.

"Emma," Granny calls out at the offending sound. She checks the caller ID, and her stomach sinks.

"It's Henry's school," Emma says back. They have an agreement-no personal calls at work unless they pertain to Henry in some way. She doesn't wait for any kind of permission from her boss before answering the call. "Hello?" There's a loud sniffle on the other end that she recognizes immediately, and she grips the counter for support. "Henry."

"M-Ma," he says softly in a thick voice. "I'm really sorry."

She closes her eyes. Oh, no. It's happening again. It can't be happening again. They just got settled in here. "What happened, kid?"

"These guys-they jumped me after soccer tryouts," he answers. "They were four of them. I tried to walk away, Ma. I swear I did. I told them to leave me alone and kept walking, but they pushed me. And... And then they all just started beating me up." She feels like she either has to be sick or punch something into obliteration. "I'm so sorry, Ma. I didn't mean for it to happen again."

"Hey, Henry, honey, it's alright," she tells him in her best soothing-mother voice, the one that always manages to come out even when she doesn't feel very soothing at all. "You didn't start it, and there was nothing you could do to avoid it. It's alright. I'm not angry with you, understand? This isn't your fault."

"C-Can you get here?" he asks. "I'm at the Principal's office now."

She is already removing her name tag, earning a confused look from Ruby. "Absolutely, kid. I am on my way right now. You stay put, and I'll be there as soon as possible."

"I'm really sorry, Ma. I know you're at work, and-"

"Stop apologizing, Henry. Things happen sometimes. I'm just glad you weren't hurt enough that you couldn't make this phone call. Sit tight, and I will be there in no time."

"Ma?" His voice is small and bears a crack, and he sounds a lot like he did when he was three-years-old, coming to her bed with his head hung low to tell her he'd had an accident. Her heart clenches at the sound.

"Yes, Henry?"

"I love you."

She smiles into the phone. "I love you, too. Always. I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye." She hangs up the phone and faces the diner, all of whose patrons are decidedly concerned. Granny has come forward from the kitchen and looks expectantly at Emma as she wipes grease from her hands on her apron.

"There was an incident at school," she explains. "Some kids jumped Henry after soccer tryouts and forced a fight. By which I mean, four boys ambushed and beat up my son." Her eyes are dark, and her voice shakes with rage at the mere notion of it. "I have to go talk to the Principal with him."

"Those little brats," Ruby growls, looking just as pissed as Emma. In fact, everyone in the diner, all of whom have at least seen Henry before, looks like they could spit fire.

"Go on, Emma," Granny says. "We'll be fine here. You go look after your boy." She nods and heads for the door. "And bring him back here once you're through at the school! I've got a feeling he could use some pie."

She smiles back the prickly but kind old woman as she opens the front door. "Thanks, Granny. I'm sure he will appreciate that."

Emma can't get to that middle school fast enough. It seems that every stupid traffic light, crosswalk, and Sunday driver in Storybrooke decides to slow her down. A twelve-minute drive feels much more like an eternity when all she can think about is if her son is hurt.

When she makes it to the parking lot, her tires squeal against the pavement as she stops. Ripping the key from the ignition, she doesn't even bother locking the car before she sprints to the school's entrance. She barely notices anything at all as she follows the signs to the administration building. She quickly realizes that she is turned around as she enters the same hallway for the second time.

"Shit," she breathes, dragging her fingers through her hair. Making an about-face, she traces her steps and nearly runs into a man. "Oh, God, I'm sorry!"

"It's quite alright," the cool, British voice assures her, and she looks up. The blonde man who smells like a pine tree threw up on him gives her a tight smile while one hands remains on the boy at his side, whose eyes are glued to the floor. "Are you alright, Miss? You seem a bit distressed."

"I'm fine," she says, shaking her head. "I'm just trying to find the administration building. I'm here to speak with Principal Belfrey."

The man's expression falls, and he shares a glance with the boy, who Emma assumes is his son. "Oh, I see. The building you're looking for is right down that breezeway there. First right upon entering takes you straight to her office."

"Thank you so much!" Emma says before taking off at a dead sprint in the direction he pointed out. In the back of her mind somewhere, a teacher from 1980-something yells at her to stop running in the hall, but she dismisses it. Now is no time for walking. Henry needs her, and she needs to make sure he is okay.

She goes exactly where the man told her and finds herself in the main office. She gets some static initially from the receptionist, but once she explains who she is in a hurried breath, she is led to a door. The receptionist starts to knock, but Emma hasn't got the time for that. Bypassing the old, blue-haired woman altogether, she all but knocks the door down, revealing a large, dark office that looks like it would be more suited in a moat-guarded castle.

"Sorry," she blows out. "I'm late." The first thing she notices is the back of her son's head sitting at the desk, and she is at his side in an instant. "Oh my God, Henry." Kneeling, she pushes his hair back and takes account of his bruises. It makes her stomach twist. The black eye. The bloody nose. The busted lip. Those kids did a number on him. "Are you okay?"

"Ma," he says in that same watery voice that sounds years younger and collapses against her. She holds him close, stroking his hair and resting her lips against his temple lovingly. "I'm okay. I'm really glad you're here."

She smiles at him as best she can. "It's alright, kid. We're going to straighten this out, I promise." She places another kiss on his forehead before rising to her feet. She turns towards the stiff-backed woman at the desk who seems like the best person to unload all her anger on. "Whose ass do I need to kick?" She pushes her hair back from her face to let her know that she means business.

From beside her, Emma hears a gasp. God, is someone else there? She hasn't even noticed-all she saw upon entry was Henry. She glances over to the seat beside Henry curiously but does a double take at the sight. Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. No fucking way.

Searing brown eyes dancing with embers and cinders stare back at her in an equally shocked expression. All Emma can think over and over again is what the fuck is _she_ doing here? Judging by the look on the brunette's face, she is thinking something similar.

The words breeze off of Emma's tongue before she can even think to stop them. "Oh, shit."

The room is dead silent for several, agonizing seconds before the woman she assumes to Principal Victoria Belfrey sputters in outrage.

"I beg your pardon!" she says, and Emma tears her eyes away from the dark-haired woman from the bachelorette party to face the scandalized school administrator. Judging by her demeanor, Emma wonders if she wouldn't be better suited for running a prison rather than a middle school. Although, to be fair, she doesn't remember there being much of a difference between the two when she was Henry's age.

"Sorry," Emma shakes her head, trying to compose herself. "I apologize. I didn't mean to say that. I'm just... It's been a long day."

"Well, I can certainly see where Henry gets his violent tendencies from," Victoria says stuffily, and that snaps Emma out of her trance. Facing the woman head on, she glares at her.

"What was that?" she growls. "Violent tendencies? My son does not have violent tendencies."

"Well, his record certainly suggests otherwise."

Emma's jaw tightens. "I explained that to you before we enrolled Henry here when we spoke over the phone. Those kids were bullies, and he was only defending himself. I didn't raise him to sit back and let anyone take advantage of him."

Victoria let out a hearty laugh that set Emma's teeth on edge. "No, you've raised him use his fists to resolve conflict instead."

The words are almost muffled through the blonde's bared teeth. "I raised him to stand up for himself and others where bullies are concerned. I raised him to avoid fights at all costs, and he does that. Every fight my son has ever been in was something unavoidable caused by bullies. And this one is no different. Henry was ambushed by four other boys, and I'll be damned if I'm going to stand by and let that happen."

"Yes, well, that's not what I've been told by the others," Victoria says.

"Of course they didn't say that! They aren't idiots-they know the kind of trouble that would get them in. But they don't have to say it, do they? Look at my son-look what they did to him! And I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the other boys didn't look like they'd even been in a fight."

Victoria clears her throat and smooths out nonexistent lines in her skirt. "A few had bloody knuckles."

"Yeah-from punching my kid!" Emma exclaims indignantly before taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Look, Principal Belfrey, you and I spoke over the phone before. Henry is not a bad kid. He isn't a troublemaker, and he doesn't start fights." The brown-haired woman began to speak again as she pointed to this file before her. "I don't care what is in those papers. Henry didn't start this fight, and if those other boys aren't punished accordingly by you for assaulting my son, I will press charges. Against them and this school alike."

Victoria's eyes widen a bit, but she gives her a thin, arrogant smile. "You wouldn't."

Leaning forward over the desk, Emma doesn't stop until their faces are mere inches apart, her eyes narrowed. "Try me."

Victoria swallows. "Well, of course the other boys have already been given a week of OSS, which will reflect on their grades and permanent record. Now, I'm sure that Henry didn't start the fight, but since it is simple his word against theirs, I will have to give him some kind of punishment for being involved." She looks at Emma nervously as if seeking approval. "Perhaps a week of after school detention. It won't be marked on his record, but it will be enough to placate the parents of the other boys."

"He can serve it with me," the brunette from Henry's side pipes in.

Emma leans back, arms crossed and holds Victoria's eyes for a long moment before nodding her head. "That sounds fair enough, I suppose." She smiles with a threats still dancing in her eyes. "I knew we could work this out like reasonable adults, Principal Belfrey."

Victoria swallows and nods her head. "Yes, indeed."

Emma turns, intentionally avoiding eye contact with the dark-haired woman who continues to gawk at her. That is one subject she does not need to broach while still in Victoria Belfrey's office. "Come on, Henry. Let's go."

"Okay," he says and stands. He and Emma leave the office, and the brunette follows behind them.

"Ma, you were amazing in there!" Henry exclaims once they're in the hallway again. "I've never seen Principal Belfrey scared of anyone before, but she was practically shaking in her boots at you!"

Emma smiles down at him, combing her fingers through his hair. "Hey, that's what happens when you draw the protective Mama Bear out of me."

"It was quite impressive." The thick, throaty voice sends an inappropriate sensation down Emma's spine, and she glances over at the woman who she still cannot believe is here. Why the hell is she here?

"Thanks," she mutters.

"Ms. Mills, this is my ma, Emma Swan," Henry introduces the two, thankfully oblivious to the tension between them. He's a smart kid but not the most perceptive in terms of emotions. Something he inherited directly from his tactless mother. "Ma, this is my English teacher, Ms. Mills."

Emma's throat closes. This is Ms. Mills? The teacher Henry has gushed over since they first moved there? The one who had done so much for him? The one who had brought smiles back to his face that not even Emma had been able to?

"Of course it is," Emma mumbles under her breath before offering a small, weak smile. "It's good to finally meet you, Ms. Mills. Henry's told me a lot about you."

"C-Call me Regina," the woman blurts before giving herself a strange look as if she didn't mean to. It is a decidedly adorable expression, and Emma bites her lip to hide the smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. Henry is always talking about his superhero mother."

"Superhero, huh?" Emma grins down at him. "I don't know if I'd go that far."

"Are you kidding?" he says. "You just scared the pants off of Principal Belfrey! If that isn't evidence of your super powers, then nothing is."

She laughs, thankful he is there relieve some of the tension. "Well, in that case, I guess you're right. I am pretty amazing."

He rolls his eyes at her. "Modest, too. I've got to get some stuff from my locker-I'll be right back, okay?"

Emma's expression falters at the idea of being left alone with the woman, but she hides it well. "Sure. Hurry back, kid." He makes his way down the hall before turning a corner for the seventh grade lockers. Exhaling heavily, Emma faces the brunette and finds those intense eyes trained on her again. God, those eyes are going to be the death of her. "Hey, so I wanted to thank you. Y'know, for everything you've done for Henry since we got here. Moving to a new town isn't easy for a kid, and I was scared he'd have trouble with it. But, the very first day of school, he came home telling me about how amazing his English teacher is. So, um, thanks, Regina."

There is a pause where the woman simply stares at her before she realizes a response is due. "Oh, well, yes. It's not problem. Henry is a pleasure to have in class. My top student." She clears her throat. "You have a very good boy on your hands, Miss Swan."

She smiles. "Yeah, I'm aware. And you can call me Emma, if you'd like."

Regina looks her over stiffly. "I think Miss Swan would be more appropriate."

There's no denying what she is referring to there, and Emma sighs heavily. "Yeah, so we should probably address the elephant in the room, shouldn't we?"

"I think not," Regina says. "We should ignore it and never speak of it like mature, responsible adults."

Emma smirks at her. "You and I have differing definitions of responsible."

Brown eyes look her up and down, and Regina's lip lifts. "Obviously."

And there it is. There is the judgement. There is the harsh look of disapproval. Disgust. Reproach. Emma has received it before, but it still enrages her. Especially coming from this woman who, when she saw Emma dancing, certainly didn't seem to have a problem with her job.

"I'm sorry?" Emma snaps. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm sure you already know. I'm aware that you aren't stupid, no matter your choice of occupation."

"My choice of occupation? Seriously?"

"I'm only stating what I think we both know."

"Oh, and what's that?"

Regina levels her with an angry glare. "That your job, what you do, isn't suitable for a mother." Emma's lips pull down, and she grits her teeth. "Have you never considered how it would hurt Henry? Have you ever thought of him?"

"Every fucking second of every day of my life," Emma grinds out. "Don't come at me with your self-righteous bullshit, lady. You don't even know me. I do what I have to do to make sure Henry's got a roof over his head and food to eat. I do it for him. You've got no right to judge me." She looks her up and down. "Especially considering how much you seemed to enjoy my show last Friday."

Stepping back, Regina huffs indignantly. "I don't know what you're talking about. It was a vulgar display."

"Really? Because the way you looked at me said you liked in a whole lot." She shakes her head. "Hypocrite."

"You think that job helps Henry? He needs his mother, Miss Swan, and you're gone all hours of the night because of it. That isn't good for him."

"I'm doing the best I can, lady, and I don't need your stamp of parental approval. You don't know my life, and you've got not right to butt in and try to tell me how to raise my kid. I have been doing this on my own for twelve years now. Before I was even legal to drink, I was a single mother. And don't you fucking dare accuse me of not caring for him. Henry is my life. He is everything to me." She shakes her head at her. "You've known him all of a month. Don't act like you know what's best for him. And don't fucking act like you care about him more than I do. I love him, and I'd give everything up for him gladly. You don't know shit about me."

"I know that you're a mother who chooses to also be a stripper." The word drips with contempt. "That is quite enough."

And that hurts. That cuts deep, because that dehumanizes Emma. That slaps a pair of labels on her and disregards everything else. Disregards her past, her story. All the pain and struggles she's endured for her son. All of the odds she has overcome. That plows over her insecurities, and it is just plain fucking cruel.

Emma struggles for a response, determined not to show how much the woman's words have hurt her, when Henry walks back up to them. Again, he is totally ignorant of the anger between them.

"I'm ready," he states, book bag over his shoulder and a smile on his face.

"Good," Emma mumbles. "Let's get out of here, kid." She glances at Regina, pondering saying goodbye but thinks better of it. Henry, however, throws his arms around her in an embrace that she returns.

"Thank you for being here for me, Ms. Mills," he says to her.

"It's my pleasure," she smiles at him, and Emma wonders how in God's name she can just flip a switch from vapid bitch to kind teacher like that. "I'll see you tomorrow-and after school for your first detention session."

"Okay," he nods. "Bye."

Henry and Emma walk out of the school together.

"So," he says, looking at his mother. "What'd you think of Ms. Mills? Pretty great, right?"

Emma swallows a sour taste on her tongue and looks at him with a forced smile. "Uh-huh, kid. She's something else."

"I know! She's the best!"

Emma has to bite her tongue to keep from disagreeing.


	9. Chapter 9

Regina walks down the street with her sister at her side and her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets. Zelena is prattling on about something-Regina isn't sure what exactly. She isn't listening. Her mind is gone, far gone. Lost three days in that past, as it has been most of the week.

She honestly can't believe it. She has always known her luck was rotten, but now she is convinced she must have the very worst in the world. What evil could she have possibly committed in a past life to earn this kind of torment? God, she had to have conducted genocide to gain this sort of bad karma-that is the only possible explanation. Nothing short of mass murder would equate such misery.

How is her favorite pupil's mother the stripper from Kathryn's bachelorette party? On what plane of existence is that even possible? She knows the town is small, but, God, can it really be _this_ small? She is still, three days later on a sunny Saturday where she should be all smiles and laughs, reeling in the shock. She has felt absent from herself all week, operating on auto pilot. Her students noticed, but thankfully they didn't ask any questions. No doubt they could all tell that she was in no state to answer, and they all probably appreciated the slackened pace in the classroom. She barely assigned any homework all week long.

She can still see those eyes falling upon her and widening in immediate recognition. At least Emma Swan seemed to be just as mortified about the situation as she was. However, she very quickly overcame that shock and jumped full-force onto Victoria in Henry's defense, which impressed Regina immensely. By all accounts, Emma showed just what a good mother she is in that instance, despite her career choice. In fact, it isn't Emma's job that had Regina biting her head off after Henry left. It was Regina's response to her.

As if it isn't bad enough that Regina had spent every night before that getting off to the memory of the woman, she could barely even keep herself under control as they sat in the office that afternoon. When she saw that familiar face, her eyes automatically ran down the length of her body, reminding herself of what she'd seen the weekend before. And, damn it if she didn't respond to the blonde's fully-clothed presence the same way she had to her half-dressed performance. She had to clench her knees together immediately and tighten her fists to keep control of herself. When Emma jumped at Victoria, Regina felt her chest reddening and struggled to breathe evenly. Because everything that woman did was like Regina's personal aphrodisiac.

And she was sitting right beside Emma's son! It was disgraceful, and she had never been so ashamed of herself. Did that stop her from re-imagining the moment in the office as if she and Emma were alone later that night? Absolutely not. She can't control herself, and control has always been one of her greatest strengths. She is angry at Emma for making her feel this way, and she knows how irrational that is. But it's easier to be angry at her than at herself. If she's honest with herself, though, she isn't really mad at Emma. She's scared of her. Of what she could do to her. She makes Regina feel reckless and chaotic. She makes Regina not care about the consequences of her actions. And that is terrifying.

That's why she lashed out at Emma. Not because she actually believes her to be a poor mother. Not even because she disapproves of her job. She just hates her damn self for being so weak-willed about her feelings for the blonde, and so she lashed out. It was childish and unfair, and of course she regrets it. Will she do it again? Probably.

"Um, hello? Are you listening to anything I'm saying, Regina?" Zelena glares at her despondent sister before snapping her fingers in front of her. "Regina!"

The brunette blinks out of her trance and looks over at her visibly irritated older sister. "What? Sorry, I got lost in thought. What were you saying?"

"Nothing as important as whatever has you so distracted," Zelena says with bright, intrigued eyes. No one likes gossip quite like her. "Tell me, darling. What has you in such a bind?"

Regina rolls her eyes. "It's nothing. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Oh, don't try to lie to me-you're not very good at it at all, and it's insulting that you'd think I'd fall for it. You have been weird all week. Spill, sis."

Regina considers denying it, but what's the point really? Zelena will just keep annoying her until she gives in. So, she stops and turns to face her sister head-on. "Alright, I'll tell you. But you've got to swear to keep quiet about it."

Zelena raises her hand. "Scout's honor."

"You will never a girl scout," Regina points out.

The redhead furrows her brow. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You said scout's honor-that means... Ugh, nevermind. It doesn't even matter." Regina takes a deep breath to prepare herself for what she knows will be a complete over reaction. "So, you remember that stripper you hired for Kathryn's bachelorette party?"

Zelena gives her an annoyed look. "That's what this is all about? You're still hot and bothered over her?"

"W-What?" Regina sputters in shock. "I'm not... I was never hot or bothered by her!"

"Yeah, well, the blush in your cheeks suggests otherwise, sis.'

"That isn't what this is about!" Regina snaps before taking another breath. "The stripper-I know her." Zelena frowns. "She's the mother of one of my students."

Electric blue eyes widen, and her eyebrows raise. "Wow. That is quite the plot twist, isn't it?" Regina nods. "So, why are you so worked up over it?"

"What do you mean? She's the mother to my student, which means I have to see her occasionally. And what's more is she is Henry's mother-you know, my star student."

"Yeah? What's the big deal? She's a stripper, Regina, not an alien. I'm sure you can manage a parent-teacher conference every month." Sure, she could. If she wasn't imagining the other woman naked with her tongue inside of her the entire time. Regina's cheeks burned at the thought, and Zelena narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Wait a minute. I see that look."

Regina's eyes widen. "W-What look? There's no look. I don't have a look. This is just my face."

"No, you're all flushed, and you're breathing harder. I know what that means." She grins wickedly. "You really do have a thing for her, don't you?"

"No!" Regina says too quickly and far too defensively. "I do not have a thing for her. I-I just... It's awkward after seeing so... so _much_ of her at the party. Doing all those... things. It is indecent."

"You can admit it was hot," Zelena chuckles. "I do." Regina raises her eyebrows at her. "It's the truth. The dance she did was sexy. She's sexy. I mean, I don't really go for blondes, but she worked it. Everyone there wanted to fuck her that night."

"Language," Regina hisses at her, wringing her hands. "Look, that's not what this is about." Because she is cornered and needs a quick exit, she defaults on the same old lie. "I just don't think that stripping is a very appropriate career choice for a mother."

Zelena rolls her eyes at her. "I'm surprised at you, Regina. I've never known you to be a hypocrite." Regina huffs and crosses her arms as they resume walking. "There's nothing wrong with stripping-it's a perfectly respectable job. I mean, it's not as if she's actually having sex for money. If that were the case, I could see your point. It's not, though. She's just dancing for a living, and that doesn't make her a bad mother. Besides, didn't you say that Henry kid comes from a single-parent household? She's probably just doing the best she can for him."

"Still," Regina maintains stubbornly, and she hates herself for making this her soapbox, but she doesn't have anything else to say without revealing the truth. And that is just too mortifying. "I don't think it is decent. Henry will suffer for it."

"Please, stop being so insufferable. What does he have to say about her? Does he say she's a bad mother?"

Regina chews her lip. "Well... no. He doesn't. He thinks she walks on water."

"Exactly. So, if it doesn't bother Henry, it shouldn't bother you. Besides, it's none of your business what she does for a living anyway."

Regina shakes her head as they enter Granny's Diner for their planned lunch. "I know. I'm being stupid. It just seems like she is everywhere I look most of the time."

She looks forward and blinks in astonishment. Oh. No way. There is no way her luck is _this_ bad.

Emma Swan stands with her back to them in front of a table in front of them with her hair pulled back and a pad and pen in hand. She is wearing a red leather (It just had to be leather, didn't it?), high-waisted mini skirt that cuts off high on her thighs with black-lace leggings, knee-high black boots, and a white, button-up shirt tucked in. And, of course, the shirt isn't buttoned all the way up. That would be too much for Regina to hope for, wouldn't it? Too much to spare her the sexual torture. No, the top three buttons are left open, just enough to hint at what could be underneath.

Of course, Regina responds to this sight as she always does. Her stomach jerks, and heat pools between her legs. She can't look away. She can't move. All she can do is gawk and wonder what on God's earth she ever did to merit this punishment.

Emma turns, finishing with the table, and she sees Regina standing frozen in the front of the diner. Her eyes darken immediately as her lips pull downward distastefully, and she quickly moves to the counter to appear busy with another customer.

"What were you saying about her being everywhere?" Zelena teases, pulling Regina out of her hypnosis.

"Shut up," the brunette grumbles and trudges to their usual booth in the corner. "Y'know, I'm really glad you're enjoying my torment."

"It shouldn't even be torment," Zelena laughs. "That's why it's funny. You're totally blowing this out of proportion."

"Easy for you to say," Regina mutters.

"Hey, Em!" She glances up when Ruby calls out to the blonde behind the counter. "Could you get that table over there? I've got this party of eight over here."

Regina watches as Emma sighs heavily and nods. "Yep, I'm on it." Grabbing some menus, she mopes reluctantly to their table. Looking between the two, she manages something that might pass for a smile and hands them the menus. "Hi there."

"Well, hello, love!" Zelena grins at her. "Fancy seeing you here."

And then, at Zelena's lighthearted spirit, Emma's smile doesn't look so forced. "Shocker, isn't it? I'm a woman of many talents, I suppose."

"How many jobs do you have exactly?" It comes out much harsher than Regina meant it to because she is nervous, and she winces under the blonde's reproachful look.

"I do what I must to ensure my son is well taken care of," she growls back at her, crossing her arms. Regina tries and fails not to notice how this pulls the neckline of her shirt apart while pressing other things together. She gulps.

"And I'm sure he is," Zelena throws in, quick to alleviate the tension. "From what I've heard, Henry thinks you're God's gift."

Again, Emma smiles at her, and Regina wishes she could garner the same reaction from her. "Yeah, well, he's pretty fantastic himself. So, what can I get you guys today?"

They give their orders, and Emma moves to the kitchen to put them in. Regina folds her hands in front of her and prays that disguises how she is so shamefully watching the blonde walk away.

"Jesus, spaz out much?" Zelena says, snapping Regina back to attention. "Do you just want her to hate you?"

"Of course not. I'd like it if we could get along."

"Well, you're going about it wrong way. Every time you talk to her, you sound like a judgmental bitch."

"I don't mean to!" Regina throws her hands up exasperatedly. "Honestly, I don't. It's just... I get around her, and it's like I can't say anything right. It's humiliating."

"Well, you'd better get that under control," Zelena advises her. "Otherwise, you'll never get in her good graces."

As Zelena starts talking about something else, Regina lets her eyes wander back to Emma, who is waiting another table. She notices how she stands somewhat guarded in front of Dr. Whale, scribbling his order down on her pad and offering one-word answers and brisk nods to him. She starts to walk away when he "accidentally" knocks his napkin from the table.

"Oh, clumsy me," he shrugs, and Regina nearly screams for Emma not to fall for the trick she has seen him play on Ruby before. But she doesn't have the time or the courage. Instead, she watches in horror and dread as Emma sighs heavily and bends over to retrieve the napkin. Allowing Whale an unobstructed view to her ass, which he leers at. Regina's teeth grind.

"Well, that's quite the view, isn't it?" he remarks snidely, and Emma stiffens before slowly rising up again. Regina watches her stand with her back still to Whale. Her fists are clenched at her sides, her jaw squared tightly. And Regina thinks she'll turn around and let the pervert have everything that is coming to him. She hopes she does. She feels certain that she is about to see the same uncontrolled fury that she witnessed in Victoria's office at the school.

But then Emma releases a long breath, and her shoulders slump. With her head down, she throws the napkin back on Whale's table without turning all the way towards him before dragging herself to the storage room.

And that tears something in Regina's chest. Because there wasn't the fire in those eyes that she'd seen at the meeting with Victoria. There wasn't the confidence she'd seen at the bachelorette party. There wasn't any of the powerful things she had come to associate with Emma Swan. Instead, there was defeat. Surrender. There was sadness and acceptance. Acceptance that this-the degradation, the harassment-is simply her lot in life, her cross to bear. In that instant, Emma Swan had been so much the victim rather than the fighter. Regina wants to do anything and everything possible to convince her that she deserves so much more.

The bell over the door rings, but Regina pays it little mind. That is, until a voice calls out her name.

"Ms. Mills!" She looks up to see Henry practically skipping to her with a big grin, and she smiles in response.

"Henry," she greets when he reaches their table. "It's good to see you."

"You, too." He turns to Zelena and throws out his hand. "Hi there! I'm Henry."

The redhead smiles back at him because the adorable little boy truly is irresistible. "Indeed you are. I'm Zelena West, Regina's sister. She's told me a lot about you. I hear your her most brilliant student."

His ears burn red. "Oh, I don't know about that. I just pay attention, I guess."

"What brings you here?" Regina asks, and she realizes afterward what a stupid question it is.

"My mom," he answers. "She works here."

"We know," Zelena nods, rolling her eyes at Regina.

"Yeah, she's got a long shift today and then another shift tonight at her other job," Henry frowns. "She's been working a lot this week, and I could tell she's been super tired." He holds up a to-go cup. "So, I thought I'd surprise her with her favorite coffee order. "Cinnamon Dolce latte. She says it's like her crack."

Regina smiles. "How very thoughtful of you, Henry. I'm sure she will appreciate it."

Emma returns from the storage room, and her eyes are red and puffy. Perhaps no one else notices it, but Regina certainly does. Her heart dips at the sight, and she bites her lower lip.

"Ma!" Henry rushes up to his mother with a mile-wide grin, and she gives him a confused look.

"Hey, kid," she says. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the arcade all day?"

"Well, I was, but then I wanted to get you something." He holds the coffee up.

"Is this what I think it is?" Emma asks with wide eyes.

"Yep," he nods. "It's your crack."

"God, I love you, Henry." She accepts the drink and wraps her arms around him lovingly. "Thank you so much. You are so my favorite son."

"Considering how many options you've got, I'm flattered," he grunts, and she laughs before dropping a kiss on his head. "I just noticed you've been working really hard lately, and I thought you'd like a surprise."

"I love it," she nods. "And I love you. So very, very much. I've got a surprise for you as well." He tilts his head to the side curiously. "I've got tomorrow off completely. No work. So, we've got the entire Sunday to ourselves." His eyes brighten. "Whatever you want to do, we'll do it."

"We could go to the bookstore!" he exclaims.

She furrows her brow. "I mean, that's a little lamer than I had in mind, but yeah, we will totally go to the bookstore if that's what you want." Someone at a table calls for a refill on their drink, and she sighs. "Duty calls, kid. I'll see you when my shift's over, okay?"

He droops slightly, knowing that he will only get a few hours with her before she has to go to work again. "Okay. I'm going to go home and play video games until you get there."

She looks sad as she pulls him in for another hug. "Love you, Henry."

"Love you, too, Ma. See you soon." She watches him leave even as she moves to tend to a table.

Regina watches the exchange from her seat, and her lips pull down. It's heartbreaking to see. Henry clearly longs for his mother to be home more, and Emma does as well. They are both suffering, and as Regina watches Emma yawn over her coffee and rub her eyes sleepily, she realizes just how hard the woman work. How much she has on her shoulders. And, for some strange reason, Regina finds herself wanting to ease that pressure a little bit.

* * *

 _A/N: So, I hope this sheds some light on Regina's response before. I do not intend her to be a self-righteous or hypocritical character at heart-she just can't handle her very intense attraction. We've all been there, haven't we? Things are going to start improving between the two, and maybe there will be some actual pleasant interaction. A novel idea, isn't it? :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: So, I went unintentionally AWOL over the weekend, and for that you have my sincerest apologies. Saturday and Sunday were occupied with very boozy Christmas parties-where I may or may not have lost at drunken Monopoly and sang karaoke to "All I Want for Christmas" on a table-and furious, last-minute Christmas shopping, because what other kind is there? Anyway, I had meant to write on both those days, but I hadn't the time nor was I in the proper state-of-mind. So, I'm back today, and I'm going to try to get two chapters up today. You definitely get this one, though. We'll see if Chapter 11 makes it or not today. Anyway, I wanted to say thank you to all of you who have left me reviews-you guys are amazing! I know I haven't been replying to them all individually, but just know that I do read them, and I adore them all. Every time I get the notification, I get all excited and happy. Please, continue to let me know what you think of this story. Here's a bit of that positive interaction I promised before. :)_

* * *

It has been a very long shift. Emma has been cursed at. She has had very hot coffee spilled on her. She has dealt with complicated orders and ornery customers. And what's more, half of them didn't even tip. She is exhausted from her shift at Wonderland the night before, and she knows she has another shift to look forward to there later that night. She's crabby and agitated, and she hasn't got to see her ray-of-sunshine since eight o'clock that morning because he is in detention. With his favorite teacher who thinks Emma is an unfit mother. Fuck her life.

The moment three-thirty comes along, Emma is scrambling to clock out, throwing her work apron on the hook in the kitchen.

"Bye, Granny," she says to the old woman in front of the stove. "I'll see you tomorrow." She gets a grunt in response, which passes for a fond goodbye from Granny.

"You out of here, Em?" Ruby asks her as she heads for the door.

"Yeah. Got to go pick up Henry from detention."

"I still can't believe that witch Belfrey gave him a week of detention," the brunette growls. "I mean, did she fail to notice his busted-up face? He clearly wasn't the bully in that scenario."

Emma smiles at the protectiveness Ruby shows towards her son-it took no time at all for Henry to win her and everyone else he'd met in town over. "Yeah, but it could've been a lot worse. She was shooting for suspension, but I scared her down to detention. Gotta take what we can get." She opens the door and steps out. "Bye, Rubes!"

"See ya, Emma. Give your kid a smooch for me!"

Grinning, Emma walks to her car parked out front and slips inside. Both Emma and Ruby had noticed how red Henry's face would get when Ruby stood too close to him or put her hand on his shoulder, and they both found it hilarious. So, the waitress had made a habit of smacking her lips on his cheeks dramatically whenever she saw him. It always left him speechless for a good five minutes afterward.

When Emma gets to the middle school to pick up Henry, she's early by fifteen minutes. She sits in the car for a while, pondering whether she should wait in the car or go in, before deciding that it's too cold out to sit in Bug when its heating has gotten so shoddy-she really needs to have the damn thing looked at. So, she heaves herself out and heads inside the school.

Henry had given her the room number where he would be serving out his detention, but he had neglected to give her any concrete directions. She thinks she can probably figure it out on her own-the school is pretty tiny after all-so she starts down random hallway and scans the doors for the right one. She must have a lost look on her face because she draws someone out of a classroom she passes.

"Do you need help finding something?"

Emma turns to see a short, small woman with dark hair cut in a cute pixie cut approaching her. She immediately pegs her as a teacher-the wardrobe is telling. Neat cardigan over a flower-print, knee-length dress with flats. She looks like she just wants to help everyone she meets. Those glimmering green eyes speak of purity and goodness. Immediately, Emma feels a smile coming over her lips at the sight. While she has never befriended those naive, goody-goody types before, she finds herself wanting to like this woman who she imagines has a heart of gold.

"Yes, actually," Emma nods to her. "I'm looking for room 204."

"Regina's room?" the woman says with a furrowed brow before her expression smooths in realization. "Oh, you must be here for Henry. Are you his older sister?"

Emma chuckles. "Um, no, I'm not. I'm his mother."

Her eyes widen. "Mother? Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I just... You're so _young_."

"Thanks, I think," Emma says and extends her hand. "I'm Emma Swan, by the way."

Shaking herself from the surprise, the woman smiles and shakes her hand. "I'm Mary Margaret Blanchard."

"Ms. Blanchard," Emma nods. "Henry's talked about you before-you're his art teacher, right? He loves those birdhouses you guys made. He comes home everyday buzzing about new things he did in art class. Henry's never been an artistically gifted kid, but the projects he's brought home since being in your class have actually been pretty good. You must inspire him."

Mary Margaret brightens at this. "Oh, I'm so glad he enjoys it! Henry is such a pleasure to have in class. So smart and sweet and helpful. That's why I knew he didn't start that fight before. I told Principal Belfrey he would never do that, but she was convinced."

"You were there?" Emma asks, brow pinched. "During the fight?"

"I'm the one who found them and stopped it before it got too bad." Mary Margaret frowns and wrings her hands. "I had to pull the bigger boys off of Henry. He was just on the ground with his hands on his head."

Emma's fists clench involuntarily at the image, but she releases them with a breath. "Yeah, I heard it went something like that. Thank you for breaking the fight up. I'd hate to think what could've happened to Henry if you hadn't come along when you did. Hopefully, that Roland kid and his friends are learning from their suspension, and we won't have anymore incidents. It does make me feel better, though, knowing that Henry has a teacher looking out for him."

Mary Margaret smiles. "Oh, he certainly does, and not just me. You should've seen Regina's reaction when I told her what had happened. I've never seen her run for anything before, but she sprinted to get to Henry and make sure he was okay."

Emma can't stop the downward tug of her lips. She just can't figured Regina Mills out. According to Henry and Mary Margaret, she's a saint, rushing to people's aid, making Shakespeare fun. But when Emma thinks back to how the woman has treated her, how she looked down her nose at her, how she insulted her without even knowing her, she sees such a different picture. How can these two starkly different personas exist in the same woman? Split personality disorder, maybe?

"Anyway, 204 is all the way down this hallway to your left," Mary Margaret tells her. "You can't miss it."

"Thank you," Emma says.

"You're welcome! It was such a pleasure meeting you, Miss Swan. I can see why Henry talks so highly of his mother."

"Please, call me Emma, and I'll call you Mary Margaret. It's a pleasure to meet you as well. And thank you again for all you've done with Henry-I really do appreciate it. Stop by Granny's Diner sometime, and I'll get you a free coffee from one friend to another. As long as Granny isn't looking, of course." They both laugh.

"I'll do that." Mary Margaret just seems elated at the invitation from a friend, and Emma wonders if she has very many friends. If not, she cannot place why that is. The woman could not be any sweeter. "Have a great day, Emma."

"You too, Mary Margaret." With that, Emma heads down the hallway and takes a left to find herself facing yet another hall. At the front of this one, though, she spots the number 204 painted and chipping off the top of an open doorway. She approaches it and hears voices inside, one distinctly Henry and the other easily recognized as Regina Mills. She isn't going to eavesdrop... until she hears herself mentioned.

"So, your mother works at the diner," Regina says. Emma freezes outside the doorway, brow furrowed curiously. "That's interesting. Does, um, does she like it there?"

"Yeah," Henry answers brightly. "She loves it there. She and Ruby are great friends now, and Granny's taken to her like a mother, y'know? She sends us pie and casseroles all the time. It's great-she cooks way better than Ma, but don't tell her I told you so." Emma rolls her eyes. She doesn't cook _that_ bad. She has only almost burned the kitchen down twice. Three. Four times. It was four times. "I like that she works there, too. She works the same hours every day, and we both always get home together by four. On the days when she doesn't have a shift at her second job, that gives us the whole afternoon and evening together."

There is a loaded silence before Regina speaks again. "And this other job... y-you don't like it?"

Emma grinds her teeth angrily. This lady's got no right talking about to him about that.

"I don't know." Henry sounds considerably less excited now, and Emma again blames Regina for that, too. "I mean, I know we need the extra money, but it's just... When she works there, it's like I never get to see her. I get four or five hours with her before she has to leave for that job, and she doesn't come back until early in the morning when I'm already asleep. I don't like it, but it's mostly because she doesn't like it. She won't tell me what the job is, but I know that she always looks really tired before she goes in. She doesn't like leaving me at nights anymore than I do, and she only gets to sleep a little while before she has to be up again and take me to school and go to work at Granny's. Honestly, I don't know how she does it all. I wish that I was old enough to get a job, so she didn't have to work so much. It isn't fair that she has to do so much to take care of me."

Emma's head rests against the wall beside her, and something hot pricks her eyes. God, she wishes he didn't have to worry about those things. He's just a kid-looking after her isn't his responsibility.

"Oh, Henry, you shouldn't worry about that," Regina says, and Emma can only imagine what she'll say about her next. How she'll say that she's a terrible mother that should be able to take care of them financially and give him all of her attention at the same time. _Well, we all can't be Super Woman, lady_ , Emma thinks to herself bitterly. "You're a child, and you should be thinking about going to school and having fun and making the soccer team."

"I know, but I want to be able to help my mom. I feel like all I ever do is take from her and don't give anything back."

Emma's heart clenches, and she nearly barges in to tell him otherwise and expose her eavesdropping. But something stops her. Curiosity, maybe?

"That isn't true," Regina tells him. "I may not know your mother very well, but I know that she loves you, Henry. That much has been made abundantly clear in the times I've seen you two together. Just think of how she protected you in Principal Belfrey's office before. She came here to this town and enrolled you in this school, so that you could have a better chance in life. And she works both of those jobs to take care of the both of you. I can't imagine how difficult it is for her, but I can assure you that she would do that a million times over, go to the ends of the earth and back for you. She loves you so much, Henry, and every sacrifice is worth it to her to see you grow up into the amazing young man I know you're becoming. I know things are hard, and I know you may feel like burden sometimes. But you aren't, Henry. You're not a burden to her. You're her whole reason for existing."

Emma has to stifle down a surprised choke. Did this woman who had only a week prior called her an unfit mother really just say all those beautiful things about her? Had she really explained so eloquently everything that Emma usually struggled to communicate? What the hell? Split personality disorder is seeming likelier by the minute.

"How do you know that?" Henry asks in a quiet voice.

"I see it in her eyes every time she looks at you, Henry. She'd give everything up for you gladly. It's what good mothers do." Emma covers her mouth in shock. Good mothers? What the actual fuck is going on here? "It's hard right now, Henry, but things will get better. You have to believe that. No matter how dark it may seem, the dawn is coming. Okay?"

"Okay."

 _Okay_ , Emma thinks before shaking herself out her trance. Shit. Had Regina managed to give her hope for a brighter future as well? How the hell did she do that? Wiping at her eyes and concreting her expression, Emma takes a deep breath and walks into the classroom as if she hadn't just heard all of... whatever that was.

Henry looks up from where he sits across from Regina at her desk and grins at her widely. "Ma!"

"Hey, kid," she greets with a smile for him. It doesn't matter how tired or confused or sad she is, smiles just come naturally when she sees him. "Enjoy your first detention session?"

He frowns. "If I say yes, is that bad? Because I did."

She chuckles. "No, kid, that isn't bad. It just means you've got a good teacher." She glances over at Regina, who looks surprised at the compliment. So, maybe they have both been stubbornly standoffish with one another. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," he says and stands up. "I'm starved, Ma. Do you think we could get dinner at Granny's?"

"Sure, kid. I'm sure she and Ruby are itching to see you again anyway. We all missed you when you didn't come straight from school like usual."

Henry turns to Regina with a smile. "Thanks for the detention, Ms. Mills. It was great."

Both Emma and Regina chuckle. "Yes, it was fun for me as well. I'll see you tomorrow, dear."

He heads for the door, but Emma hesitates in front of the desk. Regina looks at her quizzically, and she bites her lip. "Um, I just wanted to... say thanks for hanging out with him after school. I know it's supposed to be detention, but you're not treating him like a criminal, and that means a lot to me."

"He didn't do anything wrong," Regina says. "This is all just a formality to satisfy Principal Belfrey and the other boys' parents. I would never treat Henry like a bad kid. He isn't one."

Something akin to a smile stretches Emma's lips, and she rubs up and down her arms uncomfortably. "Yeah, I'm glad we're in agreement on that. I just... Thanks, Regina. That's all I wanted to say. I appreciate all you're doing for him." She releases a long breath. "Okay, there's my awkward interaction of the day. Let's go, kid. I've got work tonight, so we're on the clock." She moves with Henry towards the door.

"Wait!" Regina calls out, and they both turn with surprised expressions at her outbursts. The teacher is standing now, having rounded her desk in a second and stands a few feet away from them. There is an urgent look on her face that mixes with confusion at her own strange behavior. "I, uh... Would you two like to come to dinner sometime? At my home, I mean. I-I just think it'd be nice for us all to be formally acquainted. Maybe this Saturday, if you're free?"

Emma pauses uncertainly. She's inviting them to dinner? This seems oddly out-of-character. Before that day, she would've assumed the woman wouldn't want her anywhere near her home for fear of what diseases she might walk in the front door. But a lot has changed about her perception of Regina Mills that day, and it has left her lost in a mound of questions.

Before she can't accept or refuse the invitation, Henry jumps on it. "Yeah! That sounds great! Ma doesn't have to work Saturday night, do you?" She stammers over syllables a few moments before shaking her head. "Yeah, so it all works out! We'd love to come for dinner, Ms. Mills."

Regina looks at Emma. "Would you, Miss Swan?"

Emma swallows her surprise and chances a glance at Henry. And the puppy-dog eyes have her crumbling in an instant. "Y-Yes. We'd be honored." He grins at her excitedly.

"Good," Regina nods. "So, shall we say six o'clock this Saturday?"

"It's a date," Emma says, and then her cheeks burn bright red. "I-I mean, it's not a d-date. It's just dinner. It's..." She sighs in frustration at herself and shakes her head. "We'll be there."

The edges of Regina's lips quirk upward in a smirk she tries to fight while Henry snickers from her side, earning himself an elbow from his mother. "Excellent. I look forward to it, then."

"Us too," Henry says and grabs his mother's hand. "C'mon, Ma! I'm starving!"

Emma manages a look back at Regina as Henry drags her out of the classroom, and she smiles nervously at her before mouthing out a silent, "Thanks."

Regina smiles back and inclines her head to her. Emma holds her eyes until she and Henry turn the corner out of the classroom. He chatters to her about his day as they head for her car together, but she's hardly paying attention. The past twenty minutes are a complete whirlwind to her. How did she go from pretty much hating Regina Mills to making dinner plans with her for the coming weekend?

 _Regina Mills. Saturday. Six o'clock_. She smiles to herself. _It's a date._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: This didn't make it up yesterday, but I'm hoping it will be worth it. I had it written yesterday, but I didn't like it. The ending was far too angsty. So, I rewrote the entire chapter, and you get this long-ass thing instead. Personally, I'm much happier with this. Let me know what you think!_

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Regina is not panicking. She isn't. She isn't panicking over the lasagna that refuses to finish cooking in the oven. She isn't panicking over the garlic bread that got a little burnt on the edges. She isn't panicking over the mess in the kitchen or the wine glass she'd dropped in the dining room and shattered on the hardwoods. She isn't panicking.

Except that she is. She really fucking is. She has been panicking since she woke up that morning. Nothing has gone right all day long. Nothing. Her hair, usually so cooperative, refused to straighten, so it's curly. Curly like it naturally is. Curly like she hates it. Her makeup could be better. She spilled tomato sauce on the first outfit she picked out-the perfect one-and now she is wearing simple jeans and a button-up until she finds the time to run upstairs and pick something else out. Literally everything that could've gone wrong in preparation for that evening has, and she just wants to know what on earth she has done to deserve this.

Even with all that, though, she knows that she isn't entirely panicking over the dinner itself. If everything had gone smoothly and perfectly, she would still be messy bundle of nerves. No, it isn't about the dinner. It's about what the dinner represents. It's about what the dinner could lead to. It's about the two people coming to dinner, and the strangely important roles they've assumed in her lives. First came Henry strolling right into her heart as if he had every right to. He had filled a gaping chasm in her chest that had been there for so long, she'd learned to cope and live with the agony. Somehow, he became something that she had wanted for most of her life yet had resigned herself to believing she'd never have. And he isn't even hers. She's nothing more to him than his teacher-his favorite teacher, as he himself told her, but still just a teacher. That is what hurts. That leaves her wounded and bleeding. Knowing that she will never mean to him what he means to her. And that is what this dinner is about. She's never had a student or parent in her home before. She's never invited them over. She has never felt the need to. But now she does. Now, she wants more than anything in the world for that little boy not to move on after the end of the semester and forget she was ever apart of her life, as every other student she's ever had has done. She wants him to remember her. She wants him to love her. And, damn it, she doesn't want to let him go in four months.

And then there is his mother. In some ways, Regina wants to convince herself that the reason she wants to impress Emma Swan so much is solely because she is Henry's mother. She needs to be on good terms with her to be more involved in his life. She tries to tell herself that he is the only reason she should want Emma to like her. But she needs to be honest with herself, and she knows that isn't the case. From the moment she set eyes on Emma, there was something there. Of course, it was just sexual tension and desire at first. Pure lust. But then... was it? What had Regina felt when her eyes connected with those pale green ones? That hadn't simply been physical longing, had it? No. She can't diminish it just into that-she won't. She just wanted a chance in that moment. A chance to find what lie behind those eyes. A chance to learn the story behind this painfully beautiful creature. A chance to know and understand her. Because there is something there that Regina recognizes. Something there that she sees in her own reflection in the mirror. A toughness. A seed of hardness planted by someone a long time ago. She knows what it is. It's a scar that is left when you give your heart to someone who doesn't see its worth. To someone who is careless with it. To someone who, with their clumsy, thoughtless hands, breaks it. And judging by what little she knows of Emma Swan, Regina can assume that it didn't come from a single offense. She saw it when Whale had made the vulgar pass at her. She saw it when any man looked her up and down like meat. Emma had long ago given up. She doesn't expect anything more now. She has been so misused, so abused that she now believes that is all she deserves. Unfortunately, Emma knows more of pain and hurt in life than joy. Something Regina herself is no stranger to. And all Regina finds herself wanting to do is change both their minds.

Her mother always did say she wants more than she can ever have, and Regina supposes that's probably true. She's had her hopes dashed enough times in the past that she should believe those cruel, twisted words that "love is weakness," but she's nothing if not resilient. And she'd rather set herself up for heartbreak than stop hoping for anything at all. A life of pain, she can handle. But of despair? Of hopelessness? That she knows she wouldn't survive.

This is why she runs in a frenzy around her kitchen, cursing the still not-baked lasagna and willing her stove to cook faster. This is why she stands over her recently finished, famous apple tart, sprinkling a calculated and precise amount of cinnamon over the top. This is why she agonizes for over ten minutes over what kind of wine to serve. Even if all its preparation has gone wrong, the dinner just has to be perfect.

But then, as she is removing the finally-finished lasagna from the oven, the doorbell rings, and oh God. This can't be happening. Nothing's perfect. Everything's terrible. She's not even been able to change yet. Oh God, no. It's just not possible to have this much bad luck.

Only it is, and she's got to deal with it now. So, she rushes to the door and pauses to smooth away any wrinkles from her shirt. Then, she takes a deep breath to calm herself-though it doesn't really help-and slowly opens the front door.

Henry is all grins and dimples, and it just melts her on the spot. "Hi, Ms. Mills!"

"Hello, Henry," she greets him, and her heart eases when his arms wrap around her waist. Henry's hugs feel so very much like a home to her, and she cherishes it as long as she can before pulling away and letting him and his mother in. "Hello, Miss Swan. I'm glad you could come."

"Well, we were invited," Emma says, and she garnishes the statement with a polite smile. It's cordial, but it's still suspicious. Regina sees it in the narrowing of her eyes. She doesn't fully trust Regina, and she isn't sure what to think of this dinner. Regina can't begrudge her skepticism. After how she treated her initially and her apparent 180 degree change in their most recent interactions, she imagines the blonde is thoroughly confused about her feelings towards her. She hopes she can communicate her wants and her intentions better tonight than she has before. "Thanks for opening your home up to us. This place is-" she looks around at the enormous, elegant home with wide eyes-"amazing."

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to have you, dear."

They stand in the foyer with their eyes skittering up and down each other. Emma is dressed in a pair of tight (of course-she apparently owns no other kind), black dress slacks, a silk, dark teal blouse tucked-in neatly, and, black ankle boots. Her hair falls down in its perfect, satin-like waves, and there is a subtle hint of eye makeup that somehow makes those eyes even more captivating.

She looks perfect, like she truly put a lot of effort into herself for this evening. Like it matters to her enough to try. And here stands Regina with her curly hair, jeans, blue button-up, and flats. A lot of effort she seems to have into herself for this evening-she's looked more well put-together for work than she does now. God, it's awful. This is not the way she wanted this night to go.

Her internal self-loathing is interrupted, though, when Emma speaks. "Your hair-it's curly." Regina sucks in a sharp breath and nods hesitantly. Then, the blonde gives her a disarming smile that sends her heart into pitter-pattering chaos. "I like it that way." She looks Regina over again, and the smile doesn't falter, to Regina's surprise. In fact, it widens. "You look really beautiful this evening, Regina."

It takes several seconds for Regina to find her voice after that, and she stutters over her complete and utter shock. "T-Thank you." She manages a smile back at the woman, pulling at her fingers subconsciously. "So do you, Miss Swan." From beside them, Henry clears his throat, and Regina blinks to shake herself out of her own head. "Dinner's ready now, if you'd like to eat."

"That sounds great," Emma nods. "Henry's gone on a hunger strike all day in preparation for tonight. He's very excited to be eating dinner with his favorite teacher."

Henry's cheeks burn bright red. " _Ma!_ Why do you find it so fun to embarrass me?"

Chuckling, she throws an arm around his shoulders. "Well, kid, I brought you into this world, so I figure I've earned the right." He grumbles under his breath but doesn't stop a smile when Emma ruffles his hair.

Regina smiles at the two, grateful for the warm moment that has broken the previous tension and allowed her to salvage her confidence. "If you two will go to the dining room, I'll bring the food in and set the table."

"We can help," Emma volunteers, and Henry nods emphatically. "I mean, you did do all the cooking. Least we can do is help set the table."

"Oh, that's not necessary, dears. I-"

"We insist!" Henry pipes up and skips for the kitchen.

Emma laughs after him, passing by Regina with an apologetic shrug. "He's very eager, what can I say?"

Regina smirks back at her, feeling a comfortable banter develop between them. "And you, Miss Swan? Are you eager?"

Emma gives her an inquiring look, and she worries that she's pushed the envelope with the admittedly loaded question. But then the blonde grins back at her. "Extremely eager, Ms. Mills."

And if the question was a loaded gun, the answer is a fucking cannon, and it shakes the ground beneath Regina. All she can do is stare with a small, dazed smile as Emma enters the kitchen behind Henry.

Well, this is due to be one hell of a dinner, isn't it?

After the table has been set, the three of them sit together. Henry insists upon sitting beside Regina while Emma takes the seat across from her. Regina thinks that this arrangement leaves Emma quite lonely on her side of the table, and she worries that she will feel isolated. However, Emma doesn't seem bothered even in the slightest, smiling at the two as they practically fawn over each other. And there's something like pride in those eyes. Something like joy. Regina almost thinks it is pointed to her as much as it is Henry, but that is a foolish notion.

When they begin eating, Henry compliments Regina on her lasagna after his first bite, which Regina thanks him for. Neither are prepared for the loud, outright, honest-to-God _moan_ that comes from across the table, and they look forward with wide eyes. Emma is chewing with her eyes closed, head tilted backwards. It isn't until she swallows that she opens her eyes and frowns at the surprised looks aimed at her.

"What?" she says and then her face falls. "Oh-did I do that out loud? I thought it was a mental thing." Henry cackles at her blush while Regina admires the pinkish hue that covers her face and neck. It's a lovely shade she wouldn't mind seeing elsewhere on that beautiful body. "Sorry about that. The lasagna's amazing, Regina. Like, honestly, it's probably the best thing I've ever tasted. Don't tell Granny, though."

Regina smiles at her. "Thank you, Miss Swan. It means a lot to know that my cooking surpasses that of the legendary Eugenia Lucas."

Dinner is filled with conversation provided almost exclusively by Henry. Emma appears to busy herself with her food and keeping her alarmingly-sexual sounds of approval to herself. Regina struggles to keep up with Henry's enthusiastic chatter and discreetly watch his mother at the same time. Maybe it's creepy for Regina to watch her while she eats, but she can't help it. The woman is so extremely fascinating. So beautiful. Adorable, actually. And she's even more so when she thinks no one is watching. Like when she would take a bite of the lasagna, and her eyes would roll back in her head. Or when she accidentally spilled some wine on the table cloth and wiped it away quickly on her sleeve when she thought no one was watching. Or when she unwittingly had a dot of tomato sauce on the corner of her mouth. Regina's favorite, though, was when she realized that said tomato sauce was there on her face. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned that delectable pink hue as she dabbed it away quickly with her napkin.

She is the most precious human being Regina has ever seen, barring her son. But Henry shares her blood and DNA-all of the cute traits he possesses come from Emma. Hers, however, are cute in a whole different way. Henry's cute like a puppy. Emma's cute like Cate Blanchett. The kind of cute you want to fuck as well as cuddle.

"Hey, kid," Emma says as Henry talks about... something that he's been talking about for the past forty-five minutes. He looks at her, wide-eyed and red-cheeked. "Not to bust your bubble here, but take it easy. You're going to talk her ear off. And your face is all red from oxygen deprivation. Breathe between monologues, kid. Deep breath, let's see it." He inhales deeply. "And let it out." He can't stop a giggle as he releases the breath, and Regina smiles between the mother and son. "There you go. Now, you don't look like a beet. Give me some." They reached across the table and high-fived.

"So, Miss Swan, tell me something about yourself," Regina suggests. "I feel like I know so little about you."

Emma shrugs. "Most people don't know very much about me." She squirms a little in her chair. "Uh, what do you want to know?"

Regina sees her discomfort and chooses something she considers a simple question. "Well, where did you grow up?"

By the uncertain look on Emma's face, she assumes it's not as simple a question for her as she thought it would be. "Um... a lot of places, I guess. I moved around a lot. Minnesota was where I spent most of my time as a kid."

"Military parents?" Regina asks.

Henry stiffens in his chair beside her while Emma drops her eyes to the table. Regina notices her hands clench into fists above the table. Her voice comes out low and hollow when she finally speaks. "No. Not quite."

The room is taut with tension, and everyone can feel it. Regina can tell Emma is done talking by how she seems to fold into herself. Her head drops, cloudy eyes shrouded in shadows, and her arms wind around her own abdomen protectively as if to cover a wound. As if in self-preservation. Regina glances down at Henry, who shakes his head sadly.

They have dessert, and Henry once again fills the awkward air with cheery conversation. Regina tries to focus on him, but she can't stop her attention drifting across the table to the closed-off blonde. She eats her dessert, but she is decidedly quiet about it. The expressions that had crossed so effortlessly over her face before are now shut off completely. Regina realizes then that was an unguarded Emma Swan. The Emma Swan she had yet to see but had wanted to so badly. That was an open and inviting Emma Swan. The Emma Swan when no one was looking. The real Emma Swan.

Now, she is locked behind barriers and defense mechanisms. Regina can practically see the walls around her now, and she curses herself for bringing up a topic that brought them up. Who really wants to discuss their past anyway? When had Regina ever been very forthcoming about her own? It was a stupid question, and she could kick herself for ever asking it.

After dessert, Regina begins to collect the dishes to deposit in the dishwasher. Henry and Emma immediately jump to help, dismissing her claims that they needn't do so as her guests.

"Ma always says manners matter," Henry declares as they carry the dishes into the kitchen and put them in the washer. "Especially when you're at someone's house. Right, Ma?"

"Right-o, kid," she nods. "No one likes rude people."

Regina jumps at the opportunity at another chance at conversation with the blonde. "Henry tells me he and you have something of a book club between the two of you."

Emma smiles at him. "Yeah, you could say that. We're just a couple of book-loving nerds. We read whatever we can get our hands on."

Regina eyes brighten. "In that case, I'd like to show you both something, if you'll follow me." They do as she says, shadowing her out of the kitchen and down the hall to her study. As she holds the door open for them, she pays close attention to their expressions as they enter. Upon seeing the massive book cases, all filled to the brim, they both light up like Christmas trees.

"Whoa!" Henry exclaims and wastes no time racing inside to check out each and every book. "This is awesome! I've only ever seen this many books at the library before."

"I try to expand my collection as much as possible," Regina says. She looks back to Emma, who steps inside the study fully while biting her lower lip. Regina can tell she wants nothing more than to run inside as Henry did and start perusing the titles, but she doesn't want to appear like a child. So, as she only barely holds herself back, she glances over to Regina as if for permission. The brunette nods her head encouragingly, and Emma rushes ahead to begin browsing.

"You've got every genre imaginable in here," she muses.

"Look, Ma!" Henry says, pointing to one of them. "Your favorite!" Emma smiles fondly at the dark green spine with _Oliver Twist_ printed in fine, gold letters.

"It is," she nods her head.

"Pick one out if you'd like," Regina tells them, propping herself against her desk. "There's so many of them, and they all deserve to be read. I can't possibly get to them all on my own."

"Cool!" Henry says, and Regina watches the two of them pouring over the books together with awe. For the first time, she sees the uncanny resemblance between them. It isn't in the physical things-it's in the light in their eyes. The childlike wonder that comes over both their expressions. They're identical then, and it makes Regina's heart swell until her ribs ache.

"Oh, I love this one." Henry pulls a book out, careful not to disturb the others around it, and shows it to his mother and teacher.

" _The Secret Garden_ ," Emma says approvingly. "Nice pick, kid."

"I'm going to start reading it now," he declares.

"You're welcome to the den, dear," Regina tells him. "It's quiet in there, and the sofa is a prime spot for reading."

"Okay!"

"What do you say, Henry?" Emma quizzes him as he heads for the door.

He stops and faces Regina. "Thank you, Ms. Mills."

She smiles at him. "You're very welcome, Henry."

He looks back at his mother inquiringly, and she gives him a thumb's up. "Good job."

He beams at her. "Manners matter." Then, he prances out of the study to curl up in the den and start reading the book he'd read a hundred times over but never grew tired of.

"That kid," Emma chuckles, shaking her head. "He is something else."

"He is," Regina agrees. "You've done an excellent job with him, Miss Swan."

"Well, I can't take credit for all of it," Emma shrugs. "He was born a little gentleman. Now, the mischievous little troublemaker in him-that's all me." They laugh, and then it goes awkwardly quiet. Emma rubs the back of her neck uncertainly. "Look, um, Regina. I want to apologize for going dark on you guys in there before."

"No, it was my fault entirely," Regina steps in. "I shouldn't have pried."

Emma shakes her head. "You didn't pry. You didn't say anything wrong. It's just... my past, my parents are a touchy subject."

Regina knows she shouldn't, but she can't stop herself asking the question. "You don't get along with them?"

"I'm sure I wouldn't if I knew them," Emma says, and Regina frowns. "They gave me up when I was a baby. I was found on the side of the highway when I was a newborn." The brunette's jaw falls open in shock. Out of everything she might have imagined, this surpasses them all. "I grew up in the foster system, home to home, family to family. Never got adopted, so I just aged out of the system."

"Oh," Regina chokes out. "I... I'm sorry. If I had known, I wouldn't have asked."

"Of course you wouldn't have," Emma says with a kind smile. "But you can't know without asking. So, yeah, that's me. Little Orphan Emma." She rubs her palms together. "But, y'know, it doesn't matter now. I didn't have a family when I was a kid, but I do now." Her smile softens. "Henry is... he's everything. Everything I always wanted."

"He is a fantastic little boy," Regina nods. "You two are so close-it's nice to see."

"Yeah, well, we're all each other's ever had." Emma's fingers dance absently over the books beside her. "I made the decision the day Henry was born that nothing or no one would ever come before him in my life. From the very second I heard that little cry, I knew things would never be the same. I was sold. And then I saw him, and... he was just perfect." She laughs softly. "I still don't know how I made something so perfect."

"I can see how," Regina says quietly, and Emma looks at her in surprise. Regina feels her cheeks burn, and she dips her chin to hide her embarrassment. "Well, I can."

Emma smiles at her. "Yeah, well, he's lucky. He seems to have gotten all the better traits from me and his father."

"His father?" Regina repeats, and Emma's face darkens. Quickly, she scrambles to back pedal out of fear the blonde will shut down again-this time, for good. "We don't have to talk about him. I-I was just..."

"Curious," Emma finishes for her, and Regina is relieved to find that she doesn't look completely closed-off as she did before. At least she is still talking. "I understand. I'm the one who mentioned him, and you haven't seen or heard of him before. I can imagine you'd be curious about him. I just... I don't like talking about him. There's bad blood there. Even more than with my parents." She shrugs. "Henry's father is not, has never been, and will never be present in his or my life. Let's just leave it at that for now."

"Of course," Regina nods and tries to think of a way to change the subject. "So, um, _Oliver Twist_ is your favorite book?"

Emma grins at her. "One of my favorites, yeah. I love a good story where the orphan comes out on top. Gives me hope." Regina smiles back. "I'm pretty partial to _Matilda_ , too, though. My third grade teacher read it to my class, and I thought it was the greatest book in the world. Matilda and I had a lot in common. Bookworms with crummy home lives. I used to pretend that I had powers like her." She chuckles. "At this one group home, there was this really awful boy, Jason Towers. He was a few years older than me and bigger, and he loved to pick on me. Nobody else, really. Just me. I've still got no idea why, but he made it his goal to torment me. One time, he stole this baby blanket I had-the only thing I ever had that was mine, really-and threatened to rip it. I was so scared and mad. I tried to go all Matilda mind powers and throw him out the window, but, obviously, it didn't happen. He started laughing at me and calling me names, and I just got angrier. That's when I punched him in the face." Regina lets out a bark of surprised laughter. "Dropped him straight to the floor. I figured Matilda had her mind powers, and I had some magic of my own for getting rid of bullies. I grabbed my baby blanket and stayed outside the rest of the day." Her face falls slightly. "But then the foster mom of the week heard about it, and she had to deal with me." Her hands come up to rub her arms. "A few days later, I was moved to a different group home."

Regina looks at her, and she sees the little girl in her. She can practically see the girl with tangled blonde hair and scraped knees sitting in the back of a social worker's car with her one suitcase as she is carted off to a new home in a new city. She sees the scars there. The pain buried beneath a mountain of self-defense. And it is enough to make her want to cry.

"Sorry," Emma says weakly, snapping Regina out of her thoughts. "I'm not exactly being great company, am I? I'm sure you don't want to hear about my childhood trauma, and I'd rather not go into it, either." She smiles, and it's only barely noticeable how forced it is. "So, how about we switch topics? You've got all these books, Regina-which is your favorite?"

The brunette blinks uncertainly. "Well, that's a difficult question. There are so many possibilities, but... I suppose, if I had to choose one as my favorite, I would have to say _One Hundred Years of Solitude._ " Emma smiles widely. "Have you read it?"

She nods. "'It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.' I love Gabriel Garcia Marquez. He's a beautiful writer."

"Yes, he is," Regina nods. "So, have you always been such a reader?"

"Since I was kid, yeah. I couldn't afford to go to the movies, but there was always a library no matter where I lived. Books were free to borrow, and they transported me. When I read, I was no longer just some sad orphan girl. I wasn't in a crummy foster home. I was... wherever the book wanted me to be. Sometimes, that place was better, sometimes it was worse. But it always had a happy ending, and that's something that isn't guaranteed in real life."

Regina tilts her head. "You don't think you'll get a happy ending?"

"I don't know," Emma shrugs. "I mean, do any of us?"

"I like to think that we have the power to give ourselves a happy ending," Regina says. "I think if you can look back on your life without regret and know that you've lived and loved, that is as happy an ending you can hope for."

Emma smiles. "You make it sound awfully simple."

"Well, you know what Mr. Marquez would say," Regina says with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes. "'What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.'"

"Wow," Emma laughs. "I came here for dinner, and you've given me a life lesson. No wonder Henry loves you so much."

Regina's breath catches. "H-He does?"

"Oh, absolutely. Every day, he comes home from school, and he's like 'Ma, guess what we did in Ms. Mills' class today? Ma, you'll never believe what Ms. Mills said! Ma, can you even believe how great Ms. Mills is?'" They both laugh. "Honestly, I think he says your name more than he says mine. I'm really glad that you're in his life now, though. He needs more adult role models. He's got me, but, y'know, it takes a village. I know that I'm not always enough for him."

"Enough?" Regina repeats. "You're more than enough. He loves you so much, and he looks up to you. You're his hero." Reaching out, she touches Emma's arm gently. "You're more than enough. He knows that, and everyone else can see it."

And there's a moment there. There's something growing between them. Something in their small smiles and glimmering eyes. It isn't much yet, but it has potential.

"Ma, this book is better than I remembered!" Henry's voice from the next room over sends them an arms' length apart in shock. Looking awkwardly between each other, they start to laugh softly.

"We should probably get going," Emma says. "I've got work early tomorrow morning. Thank you again for having us over, Regina. We've both enjoyed it."

"So have I," she nods. "Perhaps we can do it again, Miss Swan."

Emma grins at her. "Only if you agree to stop calling me that. My name is Emma, and I think we're friends enough now that you can call me that."

Regina smiles back warmly. "Alright then, Emma. I've had a wonderful time tonight with you and Henry. I hope we get the chance to have dinner again."

"Maybe next time Henry and I can host," Emma nods. "Speaking of the kid, I'd better get him. It won't be easy wrestling him away from that book."

"He can take it home," Regina assures her. "I haven't even looked at it in ages, and it isn't as if I won't see you both again soon."

"You're right," Emma concedes with a crooked grin. "We will see you again soon."

Henry and Emma say their goodbyes, and Regina watches them head down her walkway to an old, beat-up, bright yellow Bug from the picture window in the den. She smiles to herself. Of course, that is Emma Swan's car. The two wave to her from the car, and she returns it kindly. She doesn't move until the taillights of the Bug disappear down the streets, and then she sighs to herself and practically collapses onto the sofa with a mile-wide grin on her face. Well, the dinner had went off to a bumpy start, but that night had ended... well, perfectly.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: I took yesterday off. Not intentionally, I just never got around to writing unfortunately. My sincerest apologies. Here's a long one for you, though, where a bunch of shit happens. ;) Again, thank you for all the reviews. The encouragement is so needed. I love that you're enjoying this story so much-I have fallen in love with it myself. And I don't say that vainly-this story is writing itself far more than I am. I've actually managed to stay with my outline **mostly** , which doesn't happen often with me. So, yay, self control. Hope you guys like this chapter, and I may or may not upload a second one today. Idk yet. A quick trigger warning for some non-con sexual contact, but I promise it's not too graphic._

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It is another loud, packed-out night in the Wonderland Nightclub, and Emma is suffering through it. She's been on the stage twice since they opened, and now she is serving drinks and making her rounds around the club. And, if it's possible, this is even more degrading than shaking her tits for a bunch of strangers. At least up on the stage she has the control, the power. At least then they look up to her. Now, she's below them as she serves drinks and gives private dances. She has taken three customers so far back to the private room, what they call the Red Room due to the, you guessed it, all-red decor inside. The ceiling and floor are painted crimson red while the walls are lined with red, vertical-striped wallpaper. There is a red leather chair in the middle of the room where clients are seated. Even the lights are red, and the big, crystal chandelier reflects like the bloody glow in kaleidoscopic patterns. All of the rooms in the club are color-coded-there's a Purple Room, Blue Room, Pink Room, Green Room, and so on. Even a Rainbow Room. Everyone knows that the Red Room is Emma's pick, though. Red is her signature color, after all, and, as she usually has the most private customers, the room is held on reserve for her most nights. It's not something she is happy about or proud of, but, hey, her reputation is how she makes a living.

The night has been long, and as she waits for the bartender, an English guy with a roguish smile who looks like he's barely old enough to drink himself, to fulfill the drink order for table thirteen, she sucks in a sharp breath to clear her mind. She's doing well tonight with her tips, but she could be doing better if she could actually fucking focus. If she could get her head out of the Regina-laced clouds for two seconds. But no. She hasn't been able to stop thinking about the woman since their dinner the night before, and it is starting to drive her a little insane. She doesn't do this stuff. She doesn't obsess over anything-especially not some woman.

Except Regina's not just some woman, and that is the whole problem. She's so much more than just some woman. She's the enigma that got Emma's heart racing at that bachelorette party that felt like eons ago. She is Henry's teacher, the one who accused Emma of being a bad parent. She is Regina, the woman who invited her over for dinner and treated Emma with respect. Like an equal. She's the one person-the first person in Emma's life-to tell her that she is enough. And that makes this all so much more fucking complicated.

"Oi, Baby." The name spoken in the thick accent almost has Emma biting the bartender's head off for calling her that, but then she remembers where she is. Baby. That's her stage name, not some lousy come-on. The stupid fucking name she hates. She blinks and looks up at the bartender to see that he has placed all the drink orders out on tray. "You alright?"

She shakes her head. "Yeah, sorry, Will. I'm just distracted tonight, I guess."

"Yeah, it's a hectic night," he nods. "Here, let me help you out." He grabs a short highball glass from under the bar and begins mixing her up... something. She doesn't know-she can't keep up with the bottles he juggles and tosses over his shoulder and spins and pours. He smirks at her, and she chuckles. Everyone knows Will Scarlet is a showman, and his tricks earn him a good amount of tips nightly. He has fast hands and sticky fingers, gained from a former career of professional robbery. He and Emma have bonded over drinks before after closing time, and they found that they had a lot in common. Just a couple of orphans with checkered pasts who are trying to do better now. Emma changed because of Henry. Will changed because of a privileged, prissy girl he fell in love with named Anastasia. A girl who gave up her inheritance, her family name for him. He talks about how amazing she is all the time, and Emma always grins at what a lovesick fool he becomes at the mention of her. It's lovely to see and only slightly nauseating.

"Here you are," Will says, sliding the glass to her. She looks over the bright purple drink inside and cuts her eyes at him.

"It's purple," she states lamely.

He grins. "Excellent observation there, Detective. It is, in fact, purple."

"What's in it?"

"Ah, weren't you paying attention?" he says, and she rolls her eyes at him. "Just drink it. You'll love it. I'll bet my good name on it."

"Fine." She grabs the glass and takes a cautionary sip of its contents. Smacking her lips, she raises her eyebrows in surprise. "It's delicious."

Will bows low behind the bar. "Your praise is appreciated and expected." She smirks as she takes another larger drink. "That ought to get your head in the game."

"I don't know," she sighs. "I'm not sure even this will do it."

He looks her over and leans his elbows on the bar towards her. "What's up with you tonight anyway? You've got the same look I had when the cops caught me sleeping in a nicked car back in Manchester." He gives her a serious look, brown eyes wide. "You're not turning to a life of crime now, are you?"

She chuckles. "No, Will, I'm not. Put those days behind me, remember?"

"Good," he nods. "I doubt your lad would approve too much otherwise. We ex-thieves got to make sure we keep the 'ex' there." He rubs his chin. "So, what is bothering you? It's clear you're distracted for a reason."

Emma runs her fingers over the rim of her glass. "Tell me something, Will. When you and Anastasia first met, when you first saw her... what was it like?" He knits his brow in confusion. "Like, were your feelings soft and subtle? Or was it more like you got hit by a truck?"

"What are you asking for?" he inquires suspiciously. "Don't tell me you're smitten with one of these blokes in here? You can do much better than any of these."

She shakes her head. "No, it's no one in here. It's..." She sighs in frustration, unable to find the words. "Okay, so there's this woman, right?"

"Ah, a woman," Will grins knowingly. "There's always a woman. What's she like?"

Emma furrows her brow. "Confusing."

"I find most of them are," he nods. "But you're a woman, too. You should be able to understand them better than me."

"No, it's not... it's not like women in general, y'know? This is just... her. I don't know how to take her. I mean, the first time I ever saw her... it was like someone had punched me in the gut. She's so beautiful and magnetizing. I had never felt so drawn to someone before. And we didn't even speak once. But then the second time we met, we did speak. And she insulted me. She was rude, and I just knew she hated me. And I didn't care very much for her, either, y'know? Even if I was attracted to her physically, I was repulsed by how judgmental and bitter she was." She rubs the back of her neck. "But then she invited me over for dinner, and we talked. Like, really talked. I told her stuff that I don't tell people I've known for years. Stuff about my past. I mean, I told her about my parents, Will." He raises his eyebrows in surprise. They are both the type to keep their parental issues-or, in a way, lack thereof-hidden tightly inside of them. He himself has only ever told Anastasia and Emma before, and he only told her because they had it in common. It's a sensitive subject that you would only talk about with someone you cared deeply for or someone who could relate to it. "She was just so nice to me and understanding, and I... I felt more comfortable talking to her than I ever have with anyone before." She shakes her head. "And I just don't know what it all means. One second, we're at each other's throats. The next, it's like... we're friends, but then there's the attraction, too. And that makes it all so complicated." She blows out heavily and looks at him. "So, what does that sound like?"

"I can think of a word," he says slowly and deliberately, "but you won't like it at all." She frowns. "So, I'll put it mildly. It sounds like you've got a serious thing for her." She groans. "But it also sounds like she has a thing for you, too. So, chin up, mate."

"It wasn't that long ago she was calling me a shit mother," Emma grumbles. "That doesn't exactly scream 'I'm into you,' does it?"

"Maybe she's just not very good at coping with her emotions," he shrugs. "Maybe she's just as confused as you and doesn't know how to deal with it or express herself. It could all be a simple matter of miscommunication."

"Or, she could be bipolar and genuinely hate me." Emma rubs her eyes. "God, this is so fucked up."

Will smirks at her. "It often is, Swan."

She looks at him sharply. "Hey, not so loud. You think I want any of these creeps knowing my real name?" She sighs and picks up the tray as some shouting is heard from her table. "I'd better get these drinks to them before they start rioting. Thanks for the talk, Will. I'm now even more confused than I was before."

He smirks. "Glad I could be of assistance, _Baby_." He emphasizes that stupid name, and she sneers back at him.

She spends the next hour or so serving drinks and gives a few more private dances before going to the backroom to prepare for another show. When she steps inside the locker room, she finds Belle there alone with Gold. The man stands inappropriately close to her with a nasty smile and leans close to whisper something in her ear. The discomfort, and even fear, is evident in her eyes. Emma feels the uncontrollable urge to come to her rescue, and she does just that as she enters.

"Sorry," she says loudly, and both Belle and Gold jump in surprise. Her boss turns to glare at her while Belle's face brightens at her. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Of course not!" Belle pipes up, taking advantage of Gold's distraction and stepping back from him.

"Miss Swan," Gold growls at her as she moves to one of the vanities and begins to touch up her makeup casually. "What are you doing?"

She gives him an innocent look. "Why, my job, Mr. Gold. Isn't that what you're always telling me to do?" He narrows his eyes at her. "I'm up next on stage, and I've got to get ready. Unless you'd rather I didn't. I'd be more than happy to go home now while my kid is still awake."

He grinds his teeth. "Don't be foolish, dearie." He glances over at Belle, who has attached herself to Emma's side and refuses to look at him. "I suppose I'll be out, then."

"Oh, you don't have to go just for my sake," Emma pouts. "I'm sure whatever you say to Belle can be said to me as well." She grins at him toothily. "She and I are such good pals, y'know." She loops an arm around the brunette, who giggles in response.

"Cheeky," Gold jeers. "You'd better put on a good show tonight, Miss Swan."

"I always do," she says, and he gives her one last look of reproach before leaving the locker room.

"Oh, you're my hero!" Belle throws her arms around Emma's neck gratefully. "Thank you so much, Emma! You totally just saved my life. He is so creepy."

"Anytime," the blonde assures her as she fixes her garters, bright red to match the rest of her outfit. She looks herself over in the mirror and smirks. Yeah. Red is her color. "I pissed him off pretty good, though, didn't I? I'll have to make sure and get a lot of tips out of the crowd."

"I know a good way of doing that," Belle says with a naughty grin, and Emma side-eyes her curiously. "Want to team up?"

Emma smiles. She's done double-dances with girls before, and they're always a crowd-pleaser. And, looking Belle over in her rhinestone-emblazoned, teal get-up, she can't think of a reason not to indulge a little.

So, she nods. "That sounds like a great idea."

Belle squeals excitedly, dancing in place and clapping her hands. "Yes! We're going to kill it."

"Damn straight." The previous dancer finishes her show and comes back into the locker room while the stage grows quiet. She grins at Belle, eyebrow raised. "Ready?"

"I was born ready," the brunette beams. "Let's do it."

Emma goes out first, welcomed with a big cheer. She's a house favorite, after all, and the audience responds well to her. She walks out slowly to "Gods and Monsters" by Lana Del Rey. She dances slowly, seductively to the hypnotically beautiful song. The lights flash with every hit of the snare drum, lighting her stoic face every few seconds. As the chorus begins, she hears another loud cheer from the crowd and knows that Belle has made her appearance on stage. Turning towards the woman who prowls forward, pale pink lights crashing against her skin, Emma smiles and, from where she is on the floor of stage, she crawls forward to meet Belle halfway. She reaches forward, and Belle takes her hand to pull her up and closer. The two begin a dangerous, slow dance together, never breaking eye-contact. It's better to look at each other than at the leering men. Emma's hand touches Belle's bare hip softly, and her fingertips dance along the bone there. Her lips curls upward at her friend, who smiles back for half a second before they fall back into their callous characters.

There is touching between the two and wandering eyes, and they both feel more comfortable doing this together than they do separate. It's a support system. When they're sharing the cat-calls and gestures and whistles, it's easier to bear. When Emma drops to her knees in front of Belle and pressed her lips softly to the outside of her thigh, she can't stop a smirk at the shudder she receives from the brunette. Looking up at her, she catches Belle's tongue dart out and lick her lips. Emma winks at her as she rises again to her feet, and they face each other with barely a breath of space between them. Emma's hand drifts to Belle's back and holds the string keeping her top on. Belle does the same to Emma.

"Together," Belle whispers, and Emma's nod is so small it is almost imperceptible.

"Together," she agrees, and they both pull off each other's tops. More loud cheering, and money rains down around them.

"Want to really make some money?" Emma asks her with a smile. The song is coming to a close, and they haven't got long now.

Belle grins. "Yeah."

Emma steps even closer to her and breathes against the skin on her cheek. Her lips brush against the outer shell of Belle's ear. "Do you trust me?"

"Absolutely," the brunette says immediately. Emma smiles before drawing back again and looks into turquoise eyes. She winks once again at her. Then, as the line "Innocence Lost" repeats over and over again, she leans forward slowly and presses her lips to Belle's. The brunette gasps before falling nearly completely into Emma.

The crowd responds just as she knew they would. There's shouting and money coming from every direction. When she draws back, Belle is still in a daze. Over her shoulder, she sees Gold in the back of the club, gawking at them, and smirks knowingly at him. He glares back at her, torn between rage and arousal. Which, ew. She swallows a soured taste at the mere thought.

Emma leads Belle off the stage, and by the time they are back in the locker room, the brunette has recovered back to her bubbly, giggling self.

"That was amazing!" she exclaims, cheeks flushed. "God, it was so hot!"

"Agreed," Emma smiles at her as they tie their tops back on. "And did you see all the money we just made? Looks like my kid's getting that new Xbox for Christmas after all."

"We've got to do that again," Belle nods. "It was so much fun."

"Yeah, but not too often," Emma warns. "If we do it every night, they'll come to expect it. No, it's got to be a special thing, or else it'll get boring." She frowns slightly. "And I hope all of that was okay. I know it was pretty... intense. Y'know, the touching and kissing and all. I tried to make sure you were consenting the entire time, but it can be hard to tell sometimes. If I made you uncomfortable at all, I'm-"

"Em, no," Belle shakes her head. "I was totally down for it all. And, in case you're worried, it doesn't change anything. We're still friends."

Emma smiles in relief. She had been scared that it would throw their dynamic off-sometimes, feelings could be confusing in those scenarios. And she likes Belle, but not like that. Not as anything more than a friend. She's still far too infatuated with a very different brunette to think of anyone else in a romantic way. "Good. I'm glad for that. You're a really good friend, Belle, and I'd hate to lose that over a job."

Belle grins at her and holds out her pinky. "We stay friends no matter what. Pinky swear?"

Emma laughs before tangling her pinky with the brunette's. "Pinky swear."

"We're the new dynamic duo of Wonderland Nightclub," Belle declares and bumps Emma's hip with her own. "Beauty and Baby!"

"At least I'm not the Beast," Emma smirks.

The rest of the night passes somewhat uneventfully in comparison. They close at two, and Will demands that Emma and Belle have a quick drink before they all go home for the night.

"After a performance like that," he grins, "you both deserve one on the house." He hands them a couple tall glasses of something pink and fruity. Emma can't very well turn that down.

"Thanks," she smiles, taking a sip of the drink. "It was a hell of a night."

"We killed it," Belle beams proudly.

"That you certainly did," Will nods. "You brought the place down. I've never seen that much cash flying around. Well done, ladies." He raises his glass to them and drinks.

"It's so much fun hanging out with you guys like this," Belle sighs. "We've got to start hanging outside of work, y'know? Like, go for drinks or something sometime. My other job is at the library, and all my co-workers there can't drink because of their stomach ulcers and can't dance because of their hip replacements."

"I'd love to," Will smiles. "As long as I can invite Anastasia along, of course. She's comfortable with my job, but I don't know how much she'd appreciate me going out to get drunk with a couple of knock-outs like yourselves." Emma rolls her eyes with a smile while Belle giggles.

"What about you, Em?" she asks, turning to the blonde. "You down?"

"Well, I'm a mother, so I'd need at least seventy-two hours in advance to work out a sitter, and I'm prone to last-minute cancellations. But, I mean, other than that, I'm free almost any time." She grins at them. "I would love to hang out with you guys outside of here. Honestly, I haven't been out in ages. I'm always either working at the diner, at home with Henry, or here. And I love spending time with my kid, don't get me wrong, but I can't exactly get recklessly wild and trashed with him. The strongest thing I get to drink at home is a single beer. I haven't gone to a bar and gotten drunk since... well, before he was born twelve years ago."

"Far too long," Will shakes his head. "Don't tell me you haven't gotten laid in that long as well?"

"Oh, God!" Belle's eyes widen. "You haven't had sex in twelve years? How are you alive?"

"I didn't say that," Emma chuckles. "I've been out on dates in the past twelve years, and I've gotten my kicks in, though not as often as I'd like. Although, thinking about it now, it has been quite a while."

"How long's a while?" Belle asks as if she's almost afraid of the answer. Emma taps her chin thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"If you've got to think that long about it," Will remarks, "then it's been too long."

"Shut up." Emma shoves his arm playfully. "I guess, it's been about... a year now, I guess."

"A year?" Belle repeats incredulously. "Emma, that is way too long for a woman who looks like you! What are you doing wrong?"

"Nothing! It's just hard to pick up women with a kid. It's not as if I can take them back to my place, and if I'm going to be out all night long, I've got to find a sitter. Do you know how hard it is to find someone you trust to stay overnight with your kid? I can't exactly pick up any stranger off the streets." She polishes off her glass with a sigh. "Speaking of, I should be getting back home. I don't like leaving Henry at night for longer than is necessary."

"We should all be going," Will nods, hopping over the bar to walk with them out. "Ebenezer Scrooge is in the back counting out his money, but if we're still here when he comes out, he'll have our heads." He elbows Emma with a grin. "Especially you. I don't know how you've done it, Swan, but he really hates you."

"I noticed," the blonde grimaces. "Whatever. Let him hate me. As long as I'm making him money, he can't do anything."

The three of them exit the bar together and part ways to get to their cars, all of them parked on separate ends of the parking lot. Emma waves to them as she approaches her Bug and reaches into her jacket pocket for her keys.

Footsteps sound behind her, and she smirks.

"What is it now, Will?" She turns and frowns when she finds a man who is decidedly not Will standing there. She furrows her brow. "You."

Killian Jones smiles widely at her, and she imagines a lot of women must find it endearing. She, however, does not. "Hello, love."

"What are you doing out here?" she asks. "The club's closed."

"I know," he nods, and her frown deepens when he takes a step closer to her. Instinctively, she moves back and jumps a bit when her back hits her car. "I wanted to see you."

"See me?" she repeats.

He nods, moving another inch closer. She doesn't like this at all. "Yes , you, Emma Swan."

Oh, she _really_ doesn't like this. He isn't supposed to know her first name much less her last as well. "How the hell do you know my name?"

He shrugs. "I have my ways. All it took was a little digging."

"That's against house policy," she glowers at him. "Clients aren't allowed to know the name's of the employees unless they tell them. It's a breach of privacy. I can tell Gold and have you banned. Like I should've done that the second you got too touchy in the private room."

He smirks at her. "You think you can get me banned? No, love, I know the Crocodile pretty well. We might not be friends, but we are acquainted. And he knows precisely how much money I give to this place. To him. He won't ban me. He can't."

She furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that we have something of an understanding, the Crocodile and I." He steps even closer and strokes her cheek. "You are a pretty one, aren't you?"

"My friends are just across the parking lot," Emma warns him. "If I scream, they'll come running."

"Oh, you mean the pretty brunette you danced with earlier?" he grins. "By all means, Swan, call her over. She can join our fun."

She jerks away when he touches her face again. "Get the fuck away from me."

"I'm not going to hurt you, love," he says. "On the contrary, I want to make you feel good. Really, really good."

"Well, you can't."

He raises his eyebrow. "You're so sure of that?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Why's that, love?"

"Because I don't fuck dudes," she spits back, and his eyes widen. "Yeah. That clear enough for you?"

"You're a lesbian?" he says, and she nods. "Oh, well, that's just because you haven't slept with the right man before. I could make you switch sides."

"There is no switching sides," she shook her head in disgust at him. "I'm gay, dude. That's not a choice. It just _is_. And, newsflash, Fabio: your dick is not God's gift to women!" He frowns. "So, get the fuck away from me."

He looks her over with hard eyes before surging forward. Before she can blink, he pins her against the Bug and shoves his intrusive tongue down her throat, muffling her cry. She struggles against him furiously, but his hold on her doesn't lessen. Glaring at him, she brings her teeth down as hard as she can on his tongue. With a yelp, he backs up, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. She doesn't hesitate to sucker punch him straight in the throat, bringing him to his knees and tears to his eyes.

"Do not ever fucking touch me again!" she hisses at him furiously, spitting on the ground to rid her mouth of him entirely. "If I ever see you again, here or anywhere else, I will not hesitate to get a restraining order against you and press charges for assault! Do you understand me?" He lets out a strangled sound that she takes for affirmation. She glares at him another moment and shakes her head. "Fucking asshole." Getting in the Bug, she starts it up and spins out of the parking lot, leaving him in a cloud of exhaust that she hopes he chokes on.

It's as she is driving that she begins to shake. She can't help it. All she can feel is his tongue probing forcefully in her mouth, his hands locking hers against the car, his weight pressed against her like an anvil. And it makes her sick. It makes her want to throw up. And it scares her-because, shit, what might have happened had she not been able to get him off? It doesn't take much imagination to know. And that was more than just than some horny guy out of control. That was forced. That was him asserting his power. That was him taking the control away from her. Or, at least, trying to. No, she's had her power stripped too many times in the past. It won't happen again. She won't let it.

She starts crying on her way home, and she sits in the car for a good ten minutes in the parking lot of her apartment building. She cries. She screams. She beats her hands against the wheel. She's scared and shaking still, and she hates herself for it. And she hates him for making her like this. For assuming it was his right to do this. She fucking hates him.

"Goddammit," she whispers to herself once she finally manages to stop weeping and wipes her eyes. No, not goddammit. Goddamn him. Goddamn Killian Jones. Goddamn that place. Goddamn all the men who have ever made her feel inferior and helpless. Goddamn Gold. Goddamn Whale. Goddamn Neal.

And goddamn herself for allowing them to do it.

The apartment is quiet when she enters, and she's exhausted now from the long day, the drama, and all the crying. She locks the door behind her, hands still trembling, and leaves her shoes beside it. Tossing her jacket onto the sofa, she heads to the bathroom. Wiping her face clean of makeup, she brushes her teeth and mopes for her bedroom. She stops to check in on Henry and frowns when she finds his bed vacant. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, where is he? She is just about to panic when she comes into her own room. There, she finds him fast asleep on her bed. Hugging her pillow. The one that smells like her. Half of his face is buried in the pillow, and she can't help but smile. She changes quickly and silently, careful not wake him, into her pajamas. Then, she eases herself into bed, slipping under the covers, and carefully slips the pillow away from him. He stirs for a second, garbling out something she can't understand. Then, his arms find her waist, and he nestles himself in her arms, head resting on her shoulder. That's when she finally manages to stop shaking. That's when she finally feels safe again. She knows she is his safety blanket, but if only he knew how he was hers as well.

She kisses the top of his head, holding him closer. "I love you, Henry. Night."

She falls asleep quickly, and she dreams of her beautiful little boy.

* * *

 _A/N: So, a couple things I'd like to clarify here. One: don't get too worked up over the Belle/Emma scene. I promise you that this is a SwanQueen work through and through. There will be no SwanBeauty, or whatever you call that ship, besides a BroTP. Where OUAT is concerned, I ship only SQ, and you can bet your ass that everything I write for the fandom will be SQ. I'm too gay for het ships (except maybe a dash of Snowing, because they're fucking cute, amirite?) and I'm too sold to Emma and Regina together to ship either of them with anyone else. So, rest assured, it's all good. Second: I know Gold is an asshole in this, and his character on the show is much more beloved. I'm not sure if I'll write him a redemption story line and put him and Belle together in the end or not. He is a fun villain, and I really do like his character on the show. Right now, the ideas I have for him are not very redemptive at all, but we'll see if anything changes. Third: I want everyone to be sure that the line where Emma blames herself for men taking advantage of her is NOT my own opinion. As someone who has been a victim of assault, I can assure you that self-blame is a real thing, and it is a hard, toxic mindset to get out of. Part of that is due to a society that would rather blame the victim than the criminal. Emma is grappling with a lifetime of abuse, and, in her mind, it's logical to blame herself because it keeps happening to her. Fourth: there is a balance I'm looking for with Emma's job that I hope that I've achieved. I do not want to seem judgmental of strippers. I have a lot of friends who strip for a living, and I don't think there is anything in the world wrong with it. If that's what you do, it's what you do, and I've got no room to judge. You're definitely making more money than me, so get it, honey. However, I have heard from my friends say that, while they enjoy how sexy the dancing makes them feel, most don't like the atmosphere of the club. They don't like be pawed at or groped (imagine that, women don't like to be treated like shit) and they don't like dancing for strangers. That's the same idea I'm going for with Emma. I hope that I've conveyed that well. I try to put a lot of thought into the stripping scenes so that it is portrayed in a sexy but also dignified way. Thus ends this long-ass note._


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: This one's kind of short and mostly filler, but no worries! The next chapter is already written and follows right behind this one. It's much more eventful ;)_

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Regina sits in a booth at Granny's and taps her fingernails on the top of the table. A glance to her watch, and she sighs in annoyance. Fifteen minutes late. She glares at the empty seat in front of her, waiting quite impatiently. There's very little that irritates her more than tardiness.

"You got an invisible friend there you're pissed at?"

She looks up and finds Emma standing at the end of her table, arms crossed with a smirk. Regina's heart rises at the sight of her, and she smiles.

"No," she shakes her head. "I'm just waiting for a friend. She's late, and she knows that's a pet peeve of mine."

"That must be a teacher thing, huh?" Emma grins. "My high school teachers were constantly giving me that same look you had when I came in late. Especially when I had food in hand."

Regina chuckles. "I imagine you were something else to have in the classroom."

"My teachers had a different name for me," Emma says. "I think it was... oh yeah, loud-mouthed smart ass." Regina laughs, and Emma looks at her softly. "You have a really pretty laugh." Regina's breath hitches in her throat at the compliment. "So, can I get you something while you wait? Coffee? You like regular with no cream or sugar, right?"

Regina furrows her brow. "Yes. How did you know?"

Emma's cheeks turn a gorgeous shade of pink, but she shrugs it off. "Eh, I'm an attentive waitress when I like my customers." She throws a wink at Regina, who is the one blushing now. "So, can I get you a cup?"

The brunette nods. "Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, dear."

Emma beams at her, and it's the expression of a child that makes Regina feel as if she is walking on air. "Sure thing. Be right back with it." Regina watches her walk off to the coffee pot on the counter. Her hair is pulled up today, the long, thick curls held back in a ponytail that falls down her back, and it allows for Regina to admire every aspect of her face. And, God, she is beautiful, isn't she? A small sigh escapes Regina's lips as she finds herself lost in endless green eyes. She doesn't even realize that she is blatantly staring at Emma as she walks back to the table.

Placing the coffee in front of Regina, Emma gives her a strange smile. "Uh, you alright there, Regina?"

The brunette blinks, snapping out her trance, and clears her throat as she becomes unusually fixated on her coffee instead. "Oh, yes, of course. I'm fine. Thank you for the coffee."

"Of course," Emma nods. "So, um, how are you?" Regina is slightly taken aback by the question, though she isn't sure why. Looking back, though, none of their previous interactions had ever really contained small talk. Before, they were usually fighting. And their only civil interaction at dinner had been filled with deep conversation. The type of things you didn't typically speak with someone about until you'd known them for years. Asking each other how they were doing seems behind them at this point.

"Sorry," Emma chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. "That's a pretty lame question, huh? I was just... trying not to make it uncomfortable." She sighs. "Which I now have by saying that. Wow, I'm dumb."

"You're not," Regina assures her. "It's alright, Emma. That's a perfectly fine question-it just took my off guard, I suppose." Her lips widen into a smile. "I'm well, Emma. Thank you for asking. How are you?"

Emma laughs more genuinely then, both of them aware of strange undercurrent of the conversation. It's not a bad strange, though. It's nice. "I'm fine. Working like usual, but I'm good. Henry's hanging out with a girl he's got a crush on but won't admit it."

"Violet," Regina supplies. "I know her-she's in my class with Henry."

"Yeah, that's the one," Emma nods. "I know he's into her because every time I ask about, he gets all red in the face and stutters."

Regina smiles. "I've noticed them growing close in class as well. It's really cute."

"It's freaking adorable is what it is," Emma grins. "I've been waiting years for him to get his first real crush. I can't wait till he comes to me for girl advice."

"That's surprising," the brunette notes. "Most mothers I know dread the day their kids start dating."

Emma shrugs. "Eh, I get to tease him over it a little, so that's fun. Besides, I've got a whole wealth of knowledge where romance is concerned, and I'm excited to pass it down to him."

Regina arches an eyebrow at her. "Oh, you're a player, are you?"

The blonde laughs. "Well, I don't think I'd say that, but I know how to talk to the ladies." Regina swallows a choking sound. Ladies. She. Said. Ladies. Fuck. "And, y'know, I'm pretty good at things other than talking, too." Regina's throat dries, and she looks up in shock at the blonde just as she turns on her heel and prances off to another table. She peeks over her shoulder back at her and winks cheekily.

"Holy shit," Regina whispers. "Was she just flirting with me?"

The answer is, of course, yes. But Regina Mills is, like all lesbians, useless, and she can't possibly believe that this woman who she thinks the sun sets and rises in could want her back. It just wouldn't make sense. That isn't how gay works, is it?

"Regina!" Another voice draws her back into the moment, and Regina looks to see Kathryn bounding to her with a big grin and a new tan.

"Kathryn, it's good to see you," she greets and stands. Before she can tell her not to, Kathryn throws her arms around Regina's neck. The brunette sighs to herself but can't stop a smile. "How was the honeymoon? That Costa Rican sun looks good on you."

"Thanks," Kathryn bubbles as they both sit down at the booth together. Regina considers mentioning how late the blonde is for their lunch, but her friend is just too happy and excited to ruin it. So, she simply smiles and folds her hands in her lap, intent to listen and nod while Kathryn relates the entire three-week trip to her. "The honeymoon was amazing! It could not have been more perfect, honestly. Fred put so much thought into everything. It was so romantic."

"So, you're enjoying married life then?"

"So much!" Kathryn nods excitedly. "It's amazing, Regina. Fred is just..." She sighs dreamily. "He's amazing. Which, I mean, I already knew that. We dated forever before we got engaged. It's just... different now that we're married. We're closer than ever before, and, honestly, I couldn't ask for anyone better."

"Well, I'm glad that things are going so well for the two of you."

"Yeah, it couldn't be-" Suddenly, Kathryn cuts herself off with a squeak and ducks nearly completely under the table.

"Kathryn?" Regina frowns at her. "What are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Don't turn around," the blonde whispers, barely peeking over the table and looking remarkably like a five-year-old rather than a fully grown, recently married woman. "But she's behind you."

"She?" Regina repeats, clueless.

"Yes, _she!_ T-The stripper. From my bachelorette party."

And then it all makes sense to Regina. She laughs to herself, and Kathryn glares at her pointedly. "I'm sorry, dear. I don't mean to have fun at your expense, really. It's just that you've missed a lot while you were away."

"Oh, God! She's coming this way!"

Emma walks up to the table again with a curious smile as she looks from the blonde head of hair under the table to Regina, who simply rolls her eyes.

"So, your friend made it... I think," she states, and Regina smirks. "Can I get you guys something to eat?"

"I'll have the grilled chicken salad," the brunette orders and kicks Kathryn under the table. "Hey! Will you stop acting like a child and order?"

A beet-red face comes into view as Kathryn straightens back out, and Emma smiles in realization.

"Hi," Kathryn says in a small, embarrassed voice.

"Hey," Emma grins. "Long time, no see, huh? It's Kathryn, isn't it?" She nods her head, mouth open slightly in surprise. "Good to see you again. How was the wedding?"

"G-Good," Kathryn stutters. "I, um, just got back from my honeymoon."

"Really?" Emma's smile is brilliant, her eyes soft and kind. Clearly, she doesn't want to humiliate Kathryn, and that seems to comfort the other blonde, who loosens up in her seat. Regina can't help but admire the soothing presence Emma so often exudes. "Where'd you go?"

"Costa Rica."

"Oh, man, I'm jealous. I always heard it's beautiful there."

Kathryn nods her head with a big grin. "The beaches were unbelievable. I swear, I never wanted to leave. Although I did miss my friends here. As wonderful as Costa Rica is, Storybrooke will always be home."

"I'm glad you had fun," Emma says. "Can I get you something for lunch?"

Kathryn orders, and Emma smiles playfully at Regina before walking off to put the orders in and tend to her other customers. Brown eyes track her movement without even meaning to.

"Alright, spill." Kathryn leans over the table as far as she can, and Regina looks back at her with brow furrowed. She has the look on her face, the big, shit-eating grin, that she always gets when she's after gossip. "What's going on there?"

"Going on where?" Regina repeats. "What are you talking about?"

"Between you and Emma."

Regina nearly chokes over the sip of coffee she'd taken. "W-What? I have no clue what you're talking about. There's nothing going on between us."

Kathryn gives her an exasperated look. "Come on, Regina. Don't lie to me-I know you too well to fall for it. You can't take your eyes off of her, and the way you look at her, it's like you're admiring the stars at night. And she doesn't look at you much differently." Regina's cheeks warm. "Obviously, there's something going on there."

"We're just friends, Kathryn," the brunette insists. "And we only just became that. There's nothing more between us. I mean, she's a mother to my favorite student."

Kathryn's eyes widen. "Wait a minute. You're telling me that woman with _that_ body has had a child? Damn."

"Hard to believe, I know," Regina murmurs.

"So, you're seriously telling me that you don't feel anything more than friendship for Emma?"

Regina bites her bottom lip. "Well, I didn't say that." Kathryn grins knowingly. "Hey, no. Don't look at me like that."

"I knew it," the blonde beams. "I fucking knew it. I knew you had a thing for her-I could tell at the bachelorette party. I just didn't think any of us would see her again after that. Should've known better in a town this small. So, have you made your move yet?"

"Kathryn, no. There's no move to make. Emma's the mother of one of my students-it would be inappropriate to get involved. Besides, regardless of what I feel, she doesn't think of me like that. Why would she?"

Kathryn rolls her eyes. "Seriously, Regina? Do you need me to write you out a sign?" Regina frowns. "Come on! You're the smartest person I know. You should be able to tell when someone is blatantly flirting with you."

"Flirting with me?" Regina's mouth falls open. "I-I... She wasn't..."

"She totally was. That little smile before she left. The way she was swaying her hips when she walked away. Regina, she all but threw herself at you."

Regina runs her fingers through her hair in awe. Could she have missed all of that? Come to think of it, though, Emma had been much warmer and friendlier with Regina since the dinner. She thinks of all the winks and smiles. The less-than-innocent implications to some of the things Emma had said to her. Shit. She was flirting.

However, Regina's train of thought is interrupted when she catches the glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. "Be My Baby" by the Ronettes had come on the juke box, and, apparently, Emma likes this song. Because she is dancing. Regina's eyes grow even larger, and her jaw nearly hits the table. It isn't like the dancing that she'd done at the bachelorette party, and, in fact, it's mostly just innocent swaying. But there's a way that she, with her back facing Regina, wiggles her hips that makes everything inside of the brunette tighten. She can't look away. She wouldn't if she could.

Kathryn glances to whatever, or rather whoever, her friend is currently fixated on and smirks to herself. "Oh, yeah. I am so hooking you two up."

Regina is far too preoccupied to notice the comment.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: This is the first chapter where the POV doesn't alternate, but I broke my rule for a reason. This chapter in particular needed to come from Regina's perspective, and I think you'll see why when you read. In other news, this is the slowest slow burn I've ever written on here, and it'll definitely be my longest work yet. This is such a fun story to write. I've been able to see these characters through a different lens as opposed to my other stories, and it's been so much fun. I hope you're enjoying it as much as me. This is probably my favorite chapter so far. :)_

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Regina has an impeccable amount of self-control. She has always considered it one of her strongest qualities, and she takes great pride in it. She's spent years perfecting her will, keeping her emotional and physical wants in check while strengthening her logic and will. She doesn't often give in. Not hardly ever. She makes wise, rational decisions. She does not allow outside forces or her own desires influence her logic. She has been that way since she was a little girl-thanks to the way her strict mother raised her-and has gotten even better at it in her adult years.

Or, at least, that is what she thought before a certain blonde hurdled into her life. Because a few months ago, Regina Mills would never even be out at one o'clock in the morning, not even on a weekend. She would be back home, asleep or reading or grading papers or anything else really. She most certainly wouldn't be parked in front of a grimy, dingy place like the Wonderland Nightclub. A few months ago, she barely even knew this place existed. It was a dark stain on the town that she only ever drove past if she absolutely had to.

Yet, here she sits in her car, gripping the steering wheel for dear life and staring intently up at the neon lights ahead. Her stomach is twisted in knots, and her teeth are clenched. She shouldn't be here. She should just go back home now and forget all about this stupid, hair-brained idea.

Even as the thoughts run through Regina's mind, her hand grips the door handle and pulls it until the door opens. Cold air rushes inside, and she swallows. How long had she paced her halls at home, battling with herself about coming here? She hasn't been able to get Emma's performance at the bachelorette party out of her head, and she wants to see more. She wants very, very badly to see the blonde put on another show like that, and, although she'd rather it not be in this place, she's willing to endure the environment to see it. And there's more to it, as well, she supposes. More beyond just her lust. There's a want, as well, to see what it's like for Emma. She's seen some of the harassment the blonde has faced at Granny's from men like Whale, and she remembers how her own hackles raise each time she saw a scumbag treat Emma disrespectfully. She imagines that that kind of abuse is much worse here, and she can't help the burning desire to want to protect Emma. Not to shelter her or look after her-Emma is very obviously more than capable of holding her own. Regina just wants to help her. To be a kind of support system. Since the dinner at her home, since she's learned more about the blonde's past, she finds herself thinking more and more about Emma-as if she didn't do that enough as it was. The ties between them just seem to grow thicker and thicker on Regina's side, and she can only hope that Emma feels the same.

It takes far too long for Regina to reach the front door of the club. It seems like for every one step she takes forward, she stumbles back another three. She finally reaches it, though, and grabs a wet wipe from her purse to wipe the handle down before touching it. With a long exhale, she opens the door and steps inside.

Her eyes widen, and she jumps when the door closes fast behind her. There are people everywhere, shoving past her towards one of the several stages or the bar. The music plays entirely too loudly, and the selections are all fast-paced, electronic tracks that sound mostly like roaring noise to Regina. Lights flash as woman dance on the smaller stages. The center stage, the largest one in the very middle of the room, is currently unoccupied.

Regina feels herself backing away towards the door. This was a very big mistake. This place-it isn't like when Emma danced at the bachelorette party. This isn't private. This is public, and the place feels so dirty. So... scary, even. It feels like a place her father would've told her never to enter, and she finds herself gravitating towards the exit.

But then she sees a spotlight fall on the main stage, waiting expectantly for its star, and the club falls apprehensively silent. A DJ speaks from somewhere she can't locate in the hazy darkness.

"Please, welcome to the stage the woman you've all been waiting for... Baby!"

The low bass of "Hurt Me Harder" by Zolita, which Regina is surprised to realize she recognizes, rumbles through the club, seeming to shake the ground and walls. Regina almost fears that it could bring the small, probably-not-structurally-sound building down around them all.

But then the beaded curtain is being pulled back, and Regina is sure that, if the roof did collapse, she wouldn't notice.

Because there is Emma's slender legs slipping out into view, a pair of crimson red, platform heels strapped to her feet. Regina's throat dries as the rest of the woman slowly comes into view, and she looks even more spectacular than she had at the bachelorette party. There's a black, lace thong that leaves more out in the open than it covers, and she wears only a black negligee, barely falling over her hips, over her top. And it's sheer. Holy fucking God, the negligee is sheer. Regina can see the outline of perky breasts beneath, can make out the darker circles of her nipples. Any thoughts of retreat vanish from Regina's mind as she makes her way closer to the stage. She doesn't relish the idea of being so close to the rest of the crowd-many of whom look like they could stand a bath or five-but she'll take the filth and grime and humiliation for a closer look at the divine woman taking the stage.

Emma dances to the slow, steady beat of the dark song, her movements fluid and graceful. Regina had almost forgotten how truly talented the blonde is. Beyond the sexual aspect, Emma is truly entrancing to watch. Something in the back of Regina's head wanders if maybe she took dance when she was younger or if she is a natural talent.

But that voice, the one that still sees logic and ration, is silenced as the performance continues. Emma curls her strong legs around the brass pole in the middle of the stage, and, lifting herself completely off the floor, she spins. It's so effortless, so natural, that it almost appears that she is flying. She twists herself up the length of the pole, reaching the top in no time at all. Regina stares in awe. Never has she seen anything like this. Anything so beautiful. So artistic. So erotic.

And then Emma is sliding back down the pole in tight spinning motions like an Olympic figure skater. She continues to gain speed, and Regina worries for a moment that she won't be able to stop. She can already see the blonde colliding with the floor in a bloody heap, breaking bones and killing herself. And that honestly scares the hell out of her, so she pushes her way forward to intervene. But then, just as she reaches the edge of the stage, Emma stops herself completely, legs holding her inches from the ground. Regina gasps in awe while the rest of the club cheers.

And then Emma looks ahead from her pose, upside down, and those green eyes land on Regina, now in full view. Regina expects anger at her for coming. For invading this part of the blonde's life. For getting too close. She expects what relationship they've built up to end because she couldn't control herself.

Only that isn't what she finds. Emma blinks, and there's certainly surprise there. However, it lasts only a second. Her expression returns to its previous stony glare as she unwinds herself expertly from the pole. She is back on her feet in a moment, and her fingers play with the thin straps of her negligee. And she is staring straight at Regina with those eyes uncharacteristically cold in the hottest way possible. God, Regina loves this somber Emma. This dominatrix. This gorgeous woman who seems to know exactly what she wants and would give it to her-after Regina worked for it. And that was fucking hot.

Then, the negligee drops to the floor in a puddle of fabric, and Regina is sure that she'll have a heart attack now. As the rest of the audience shouts and throws money at her, Regina can only gape at the topless woman before her who stares right back, daring her to look away first. As many times as Regina had imagined this image in her mind, it shouldn't have been so flooring. But fantasy is nothing compared to reality, and she can hardly function. And it's strange because she's Emma, but she's not quite. She doesn't smile and giggle and blush like Emma does at the diner. However, Regina finds that spark inside this woman on stage. The spark that had Victoria Belfrey stumbling over her apologies. This woman is demanding, but she gives as much as she takes. She expects obedience, but she enjoys a good fight much more than blind compliance. This woman is a predator, and damn if Regina doesn't feel like her prey.

She's off stage in a blink of an eye. Regina swallows as another dancer takes the stage and backs away. The guilt and shame hit her then. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't have just been gawking at Henry's mother like that. This was a stupid, selfish, idiotic plan. She'd crossed a very important line, and she knows there is no going back from here. Emma will never forgive her. She will never forgive herself.

She heads for the door quickly but is stopped when a hand grabs hers.

"Regina!"

She spins back around with wide eyes and finds Emma there. She's wearing the negligee again, but she has a bra under the sheer material to cover herself more. Regina can't tell if she is grateful or disappointed by this, and that sends another debilitating wave of shame.

"E-Emma," she gasps. "I... I'm so sorry. I don't know what made me come here. I shouldn't have."

"You're sorry?" Emma repeats with a knit brow. "What are you talking about, Regina? What have you got to be sorry for?"

"I shouldn't have come here. It was selfish of me-you probably didn't want me of all people to see you like this. I mean, I'm Henry's teacher. I'm so stupid! Staring at you like that. Honestly, I'm no better than Whale or any of these slobs here. I should-"

"Regina, stop." Emma steps closer to her, and Regina realizes she's still holding her hand. The warmth feels... too good. She could get used to the feeling, and she shouldn't. "You don't need to apologize. I don't mind that you came here, and I don't mind that you saw me performing. I'm not ashamed of what I do. The only person I've ever kept this from is Henry, and that's just because he doesn't need to know this kind of stuff about his mom. Talk about scarring the kid for life." She smiles warmly at Regina, and this looks like her Emma. No, not her Emma. Regina has no right to her. Why does she have to keep reminding herself that? "And, trust me, you're much better than Whale and the pigs here. Do you want to grab a drink?" She nods over towards the bar.

And somehow, despite herself, Regina smiles back at the blonde, because how can she not? God, what is this woman doing to her famed self control? "I'd like that very much, Emma."

The two walk to the bar, and their hands are still linked even though there is no need for them to be. Regina isn't about to let go, and Emma doesn't seem to want to, either. So, that's good.

They sit down side-by-side at the bar, and a handsome, young man makes his way down to them.

"Hello, ma'am," he nods cordially to Regina, who returns it. Then, he grins widely at Emma. "And hello, Emma. Great performance up there."

"Thanks," she says. "This is Regina. Regina, this is my friend, Will Scarlet."

"Pleasure to meet you," he smiles at Regina.

"Likewise," the brunette returns. She doesn't know why, but she automatically likes this man. She doesn't think she normally would-he has a sly smile that doesn't make him appear too trustworthy. But he's fun, and Emma clearly likes him.

"What can I get you two to drink?" he inquires.

"Can I order for you?" Emma asks Regina with bright eyes. "I wouldn't normally even ask, but Will makes this amazing specialty drink."

Regina smiles at her. "By all means. I trust you."

And that seems to resonate with the blonde, because she stares at Regina then as if she is her own personal superhero. Then, after Will clears his throat, she finally looks at him. "Two Grasshoppers, please."

He gives her a smirk, which she responds to with a glare, while he wields a couple bottles of liqueur like weapons. "I'm on it."

Emma leans over to Regina with a smile. "Watch close-it's easy to miss."

Regina frowns. "What do you-" But then she knows exactly what Emma means. The man twirls the bottles like batons, pouring their contents into a pair of martini glasses. There is no measuring, no careful administration. She can barely keep up with his hands. Before she can even recover, he's finished making the drinks and slides them to the two women. Emma chuckles at Regina's stunned expression.

"Two Grasshoppers," he says. "Enjoy. Oh, and Emma?" She looks up just as he leans close. He whispers something in her ear that makes her cheeks flush, and she shoves him back while he laughs. "No need to get violent there, lover girl."

"Go do your job, Will," she says, and he is still laughing when he walks away.

"What was that about?" Regina asks curiously.

Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Nothing. He's just an idiot." She brightens again, and it never ceases to amaze Regina how this woman's smile seems to illuminate the entire room. "But he makes a really good drink. Try it."

Regina looks down at the very green drink. "It's certainly... colorful."

"Yeah, all his drinks are," Emma nods. "You're going to love it, though. It's like Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream-but alcoholic." Regina can't help but smile at how pleased that seems to make Emma before she leans forward and taking an experimental sip of the drink. She is immediately hit with the sharp taste of the mint, but it is balanced perfectly with and softened by the sweetness of the chocolate liqueur. She smacks her lips together before taking another, larger drink.

"So?" Emma says a bit anxiously. Her hands are gripping each other in her lap, and she is bouncing slightly in her seat as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. It dawns on Regina then just how important it is to her that she like the drink she picked out for her. It's adorable, if she's honest. "What do you think?"

"It's delicious, Emma," the brunette confirms. "You have impeccable taste."

Emma grins widely and finally takes a drink from her own glass. "Yeah, I know." Regina laughs. Arrogance has never been something she's valued much, but Emma is not obnoxious. She is confident in herself, and that is endearing. Attractive. Sexy. And, of course, Regina is reminded of what the blonde is wearing again. Her eyes drag involuntarily over Emma's form. She doesn't realize until she sees the smirk on Emma's face that she has been caught.

"You like what you see?" Emma teases. Except for maybe that's not teasing. Maybe that's flirting. Regina doesn't know-she's always been terrible at reading signals.

"You look very... nice." It isn't the most fitting description, but Regina cannot say what she really means without losing all her dignity in the process. "Your performance before was wonderful, Emma. You're a phenomenal dancer." She remembers her thought from earlier. "Did you take dance as a child?"

"Not for long," the blonde says. "This one foster family I was with enrolled me, but I was only with them for six months before I was moved. This one group home, though, I was in for a long time, and it was a big one. There were a ton of kids there from all different ethnic backgrounds. The neighborhood itself was pretty diverse. There was a rec center nearby that we all went to, and they offered dance classes. They did every kind of dance you can imagine. Classical. Latin. Hip-hop. Pole-dancing wasn't an option, but that's pretty easy to pick up on." She takes another long, leisurely drink. "Dancing was the only thing that I was very good at as a kid, and it was one of the few things I enjoyed doing. So, it just stuck, I guess."

"Well, you're very good. I'd bet you could go professional. As a back-up dancer for some big celebrity. Or in musicals. You could be on Broadway if you wanted."

Emma snorts. "Yeah, I don't know about that. I'm not much of an actor and definitely not much of a singer. Just ask Henry. He used to cry harder when I tried to sing lullabies to him." Regina laughs, and Emma softens. "There's that laugh I love again."

Regina can't breathe. Love. She said love. She said she loves her laugh. God. What does she do now?

"Emma, I-"

"Swan!"

They both jump at the gravelly voice and turn. A small man pushes his way towards them, face screwed up angrily. Regina recognizes him immediately. Mr. Gold. He's a shady "businessman" who has his hands tied up in almost every possible avenue of income in Storybrooke. Rumors of less-than-legitimate business deals made by him with very carefully-worded contracts had always circled around him, and Regina didn't consider him anything more than a crook.

"Mr. Gold," Emma says, and Regina notices how her back straightens and her expression hardens. "I was just-"

"I'm not paying you to sit around and drink, Swan," he cuts her off, and he's far too close to her for Regina's liking. She fights the urge to step between them and make him back off, knowing that would only cause more trouble for Emma. "You'd better get off your ass and start making your rounds."

The blonde sighs, shoulders sagging. "Yes, Mr. Gold. Of course." He wades back through the crowd, and Emma faces Regina with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry, but he's going to stay on my case until I make it around the floor. My shift's done in an hour, though, and I should be able to sneak back over here soon. Wait for me?"

Regina nods immediately. "Of course."

Emma smiles back at her, but it isn't as bright as it usually is. "Good. Thanks, Regina."

And she moves through the thick of the crowd. Regina watches, and her lip curls distastefully as men leer at the blonde. Emma doesn't smile and laugh like the other women do. She doesn't play the flirt and twirl her hair. That isn't her character. She wears the same expression she did when she was on stage. She's cold. Distant. Apathetic. She can take these men or leave them. She doesn't need them or their money. Except that she does, and the callous act seems to be a turn-on for them. She's not easy, and she isn't cheap.

One man in particular seems to have taken a liking to her. He's a tall, broad man, bald under his baseball cap. Regina doesn't recognize him, so she assumes he is from out of town. A trucker passing through, maybe. There is a grubby, shadow of a beard on his face and dark rings under his eyes, and he looks eons older than Emma. He stands behind the blonde and stares at her hungrily. Regina doesn't like the look in his eyes. She doesn't like that he is taking steps closer to Emma. She doesn't like that his hand is twitching. She doesn't like that Emma doesn't even know he's there.

She's on her feet and pushing her way towards them to stop whatever is about to happen, but she can't get there quite in time around all the bumbling bodies. She sees his hand come out, grab Emma's barely covered ass, and squeeze. The blonde jumps and spins around, shocked by the nerve of this stranger.

Something in Regina snaps at this, and she forces her way to the two. Emma is screaming at the man, calling him every name in the book, and he shrinks back from her in surprise. Clearly, he thought this was the kind of place where customers could do whatever they want. Not with Emma. Not while Regina's there.

Regina grabs Emma's arm and pulls her away from the man. The blonde looks at her quizzically.

"Regina?" she frowns. "What's up? What are you doing?"

"A private room," Regina blurts out, confusing Emma even more. "I can rent a private room, can't I? For the next hour, and you wouldn't have to be out here, right?"

"Well, yeah, but those rooms are expensive."

"I don't care. I'll pay it-whatever it is, I'll pay it."

Emma furrows her brow at her, but she arranges things with Mr. Gold. Regina pays an exorbitant fee for a private room for the next hour, and Emma guides her to a room with a velvet curtain separating it from the rest of the club. A hulking man stands beside the curtain.

"Want to keep it open, Emma?" he asks the blonde, eyeing Regina suspiciously.

"No, Mike, we can close it," she responds, and he looks at her uncertainly. "I know her. It's fine."

"Alright then." Emma and Regina enter the room together, and the man draws the curtains closed behind them.

Regina stands in the middle of the room and stares around with wide eyes. Every inch of the room appears bathed in crimson, as if it has been painted with blood.

"This is the Red Room," Emma says.

"Is it?" Regina mutters. "I'd never guess."

Emma laughs at this, and that draws Regina back to the current situation. She and Emma are alone in a room that is typically reserved for lap dances. She looks to the red, leather chair in front of her and swallows.

"You can sit down, if you'd like," Emma tells her, and Regina drops into the chair because she doesn't know what else to do. Emma turns to an ice bucket in the corner and pours them out a couple glasses of champagne, despite neither of them having finished their Grasshoppers earlier. "It comes with the room, so we might as well enjoy it."

"Thank you," Regina nods to her as she accepts one of the flutes. It shakes in her trembling hand, and she curses herself for it.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," Emma tells her, and Regina takes a long sip of the champagne. It's good at least. "If you want a dance, I'll be happy to give it to you. I mean, you did pay enough for it." She smiles crookedly, and it's the cute, mischievous smile that always takes Regina's breath away. "And I'd certainly enjoy giving you a dance more than any of those clowns out there."

Regina grips the glass tighter just to make sure this is really happening, that this entire nigh hasn't been a fever dream. She would like a dance from Emma. Like the one Kathryn had gotten. Only better. More personal. She'd like to run her fingers through Emma's hair as she danced over her. She'd like to feel the skin on those bare thighs that looks so smooth and silky. She'd like to taste the barely-there gloss on those lips.

But she can't do that, not like this. She doesn't want to be another client for Emma. Someone who paid for her body. She wants her to know that she sees so much more than that in her. She wants her to know that there is so much more to her worth valuing and admiring than just her body.

"Maybe we could just talk?" Regina suggests.

Emma looks surprised by this and maybe even a little disappointed, though Regina thinks that might just be her imagination. "Oh, um, sure. Yeah, we could talk." She leans against the wall. "What do you want to talk about?"

Regina shrugs. "Anything. Everything. Whatever you want to talk about."

And so they talk, and they really do talk about anything and everything. Emma tells her about her childhood, about how she would go to whatever rec center was closest and dance whenever her current foster parents would fight. How it became her salvation in a lot of ways. And Regina talked about her parents and Zelena, about how the passing of their mother had brought them closer together. About how hard she had taken the death of her father.

"I'm really sorry that you lost him," Emma says from where she has settled on the floor. Regina had offered to make room for her in the chair, but she refused and lowered herself to the floor. With her legs hugged to her chest and her chin resting on her knees, she looks like a child, despite her clothing. "And your mom, too. I mean, I never knew my parents, so I can't really miss them, y'know? I'm sorry that you've had to go through that."

Regina smiles weakly. "It's alright. It's been a long time."

"No, time doesn't always heal things," Emma insists, and Regina can tell she's speaking from experience. Green eyes look up at her intently. "Some things get better with time, but other things get worse. And it might be out of line to say, but I can tell that you're still carrying that pain around. I'm pretty good at reading people, and I can see the sadness still in your eyes. I'm sorry that you had to deal with that. I wish I could take that away and fix it for you."

This time, Regina's smile is more natural and sincere. "I don't think it will ever go away completely, but being with you certainly makes it more bearable."

Emma smiles back at her proudly, turning her empty champagne glass over in her hands.

"Emma?" The voice is that of the bouncer outside.

"Yeah, Mike? What's up?"

"Hour's up. Club's about to close."

"Oh." Emma looks deflated at this, but she hauls herself to her feet after a moment. "Okay then." She takes a few steps towards Regina until she stands right in front of her. "I guess this is goodnight, then. I'd offer to take you out somewhere after this, but it's really late, and I've got to get back to Henry."

"I understand completely," Regina nods. "Maybe we could see each other again tomorrow? With Henry as well, perhaps?"

Emma smirks. "If I can tear him away from his crush." Regina smiles, but her heart stops when Emma leans closer to her, her arms settled on the arm rests of the chair. Regina is essentially trapped there by the blonde, but, if that's the case, she really doesn't want to be free. "I had a really wonderful time with you tonight, Regina."

The brunette can hardly breath, much less speak, with Emma's intoxicating perfume washing over her and the perfect view at her breasts that her current position provides. Judging by the curl of Emma's lips, she is well aware of the effect she has on Regina and enjoys it immensely. "S-So did I."

"I just hate that you paid so much for so little in return."

At this comment, Regina regains herself, and she looks into Emma's eyes to show how honest she is now. "Emma, I feel very badly for you if you think this past hour has been little to me." The blonde's smile falls away. "This time with you, talking with you, has meant so very much for me, and I got more than my money's worth, trust me." Regina reaches out hesitantly and takes a blonde, errant curl in her hand to stroke carefully. "You are worth so much more than you think, Emma. More than your body. You have so much to offer the world. I've never had the honor of knowing such a beautiful, kind soul as yours. I hope I can help you see that you're more than this job or your past."

Emma gulps audibly at this, and Regina pulls her hand back for fear of overstepping boundaries. But then the blonde is leaning in closer, and it's Regina who gulps now.

Emma leans in until her breath is tickling Regina's ear, and the brunette shivers. Emma's voice comes out quiet and shaky when she speaks. "Thank you, Regina. That means more to me than you know."

Regina gasps when those lips that she so longs to taste press sweetly against her cheek. She closes her eyes to cherish the contact, but it is gone far too soon. When she opens her eyes, Emma is gone.

She stares at the velvet curtain, parted slightly where the blonde must have slipped out, and blows out a long breath.

Well, she takes it back. This wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: And I'm still alive. Apologies for the long wait for an update. The holidays were very cheerful and merry but also grueling. Between traveling hours to go home for Christmas and getting far too drunk on NYE, I haven't had much time to write. Please accept this fluffy chapter as an apology. This is officially the longest FF I've ever written and certainly the slowest burn I've attempted. I'm actually surprised with how this story has shaped itself in a lot of ways-it was meant to be a short fic at first. But, as is usually the case, the story knew far more about itself than I did. Outlining and planning this out has been painless and easy, which is never the case for me. All that is to say that I've got big plans for this story now that is has really begun to pick up steam. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I have writing it! Drop me a review below with your thoughts and burning questions. ;)_

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The next morning is one of the rare ones where Emma does not have to work at Granny's, but she still wakes up early to get in her usual morning run. It's a Saturday, so she finds Henry sitting on the sofa downstairs with a bowl of cereal, watching his favorite cartoons in a zombie-like state of half-asleep, half-aware.

"Morning, kid," she says and receives a grunt in response. "I'm going to go for a little run, alright? Been a while since I had the chance, and I want to take advantage of a free morning. When I get back, we could go out to that comic book store you like so much and pick a few out. Then, maybe we can swing by Granny's and grab a bite to eat. Sound good?"

"Uh-huh, sure," Henry responds with his eyelids slipping back closed.

She smirks and throws a pillow at him, which earns her a glare. "Hey, don't give me that look. Wake up before you fall face-first into your cereal bowl. I'll be back soon."

She leaves the apartment, locking the door behind her and makes her way outside onto the sidewalk. After zipping her thin, reflective jacket up to guard against the morning chill, she begins stretching her legs out. She has always enjoyed running and tried to make time for it as often as possible, though that was not anywhere near as often as she'd like. When she was in high school, she had been something of a track star. Like dance, it had been an escape for her from the shitty life she had. Now, it is less of an escape and more of a way to stay fit and clear her mind.

She inserts her earbuds, streaming music to them from her phone zipped securely in her jacket pocket. She take another second to shake out her legs and limber them out before starting her jog through town. The few people who'd decided to brave the outdoors that cold morning at eight in the morning wave to her, and she returns the greeting with a nod and smile. She likes that about Storybrooke. She had always preferred big cities to small towns in the past, but there is something about this place. The tight-knit community has been a source of support and encouragement and friendship to both her and Henry rather than judgement and hypocrisy. She can't hardly believe it, but she really does like their life here.

Of course, she would be lying to herself if she didn't acknowledge that there is one individual mainly responsible for this. Her mind drifts back to the previous night as she jogs. Regina. She'd come to the club. Emma had been been shocked to see her there, and, for a brief moment, she had thought maybe she was imagining the woman who had occupied her dreams for so long there. When she realized Regina wasn't a figment of her horny imagination, she was immediately afraid. Afraid of what the brunette would think of seeing her there in that dirty place, straddling that pole, grinding on the stage floor, accepting money from perverted strangers. She had feared that Regina would look down on her again and that the good relationship they were only beginning to build would crumble in an instant. She had been afraid of her judgement.

But there was no judgement in those brown eyes that gazed up at her on the stage. There were so many things there, but there was not judgement. There was desire-that was forefront, but it wasn't like what she saw from the others who came to see her there. It wasn't lust-at least not entirely. There was so much more in those. Reverie. Praise. Respect. Even as she looked at Emma, half-naked and twirling around a brass pole in a dingy strip club, Regina still respected her. And that was more than Emma could've ever hoped for from her.

When she'd seen Regina practically fleeing the bar after the show, she had considered letting her go. After all, if she was uncomfortable, Emma didn't want to hold her there. But then... she just couldn't. Not without talking to her. She was afraid if she didn't talk to her, Regina would pretend like it never happened the next time they saw each other. Like Emma had hallucinated the entire thing after all. And she couldn't do that. She couldn't pretend like she hadn't seen those things in Regina's eyes because that would be far too painful. Too much of a letdown. Too much debilitating disappointment. Considering how the rest of the night went, Emma was very, very happy that she'd stopped the beautiful woman from leaving prematurely.

Thinking back to her lips pressed against Regina's soft, warm cheek, Emma smiles to herself. The things that Regina had said to her that night... it had been so much more than perfect. How could one person be so amazing? So thoughtful and kind? So absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful in every possible way? God, Emma had wanted to put her lips somewhere. She'd wanted to kiss Regina to show just how much what she said meant to her. She'd wanted to strip away both their clothes and shower every inch of that perfect body with attention and affection to communicate how deeply she was falling for this woman. Because she was. She doesn't deny it. She couldn't if she wanted to. She is falling very fast and very hard for Regina Mills. It is scary in a way, to want something that seems so unattainable, but after last night... Well, it doesn't seem so distant a possibility now.

She'd held herself back last night, though and settled for sweet touch of her lips to Regina's cheek. To be honest, the brief contact had left her just as dizzy and light-headed as if she had made out with the woman for an hour. That is the effect that Regina has on her. It is strong and deep and terrifying and wonderful, and she can't begin to fathom how this happened. How she tumbled over the a very tall cliff side and dove face-first into this. She has never felt for anyone the way she does for Regina. She's never been this excited about anything before. She's never felt this anxious. And she doesn't know what it all means, but does it really need an explanation? It is what it is, and she loves that bubbly feeling that overtakes her senses when she merely thinks of her son's English teacher.

She wants to do this right. She doesn't want to get ahead of herself or dive into anything too fast with Regina. That isn't the way it should be done. It should be slow. Easy. Every moment with her should be savored. Every part of her deserves to be worshiped. Emma doesn't want to screw this up, no matter how much she'd love to go to the brunette's house right now and take her on the spot. Regina is worth more than that to her, and she deserves so much more. She deserves the world, and Emma wants more than anything to give that to her. Even if it is impossible, she wants to try for as long as she is able.

A part of her worries she is in over her head. It has been a very long time since she has even considered entering a serious relationship with someone, and nobody has ever seemed so invested in her as Regina. She could be making a mountain out of a molehill and getting ahead of herself. What if Regina doesn't actually feel the same way about her? What if she is just a nice person with the best of intentions and no alternate motives for the things she said the night before? What if she just wants to make a good impression on Emma for Henry's sake?

No. Emma isn't a genius, but she knows how to read people, and she knows how to read signs. From the very beginning, Regina has been interested in her. She knew it at the bachelorette party, and she knew it at the dinner at her house. She was fairly certain at the diner the other day, so she had made her flirting rather blatant. Regina didn't seem to be as perceptive to that sort of thing as Emma, but her surprised, confused reaction had pretty much outed her. Emma knows exactly what gay panic looks like-she'd been victim to it more than a few times herself. Last night, though, Emma had learned that Regina was interested in far more than just her body. She realized that Regina valued her as more than a piece of ass. Regina actually liked her for who she was, not what she could get from her. And that is something Emma has never experienced before.

Emma grows vaguely aware of someone calling her name behind her, and she removes one earbud as she turns. Her lungs burn with the cold air, and the breeze, faint but chilling all the same, freezes the small sweat beads on her exposed skin.

Mary Margaret, bundled in a knee-length overcoat with a scarf and a knit beret, rushes up to Emma with a big, red-cheeked smile. Emma can't help but return the look. She can't place it, but there's just something she likes about the quirky, overly chipper woman.

"Hi, Mary Margaret," Emma says, removing the other earbud as well and slinging their cord over around her neck. "How are you this morning?"

"Good," the smaller woman replies, practically glowing from the friendly reception. Emma gets the feeling that she doesn't have very many friends or at least doesn't get out very often. Which seems strange when Emma can't think of a reason in the world for it. Mary Margaret may not appear to be much of a drinking buddy, but she's certainly the type of friend to have your back through thick and thin. Emma knows what a rare trait that can be to find, and she appreciates it when she finds it. "How are you? Having a nice run?"

"As nice as I can in this weather," Emma nods, shivering slightly as a particularly strong gust of wind blows around them. "Unfortunately, I didn't have much time for running back when it was warmer, and now I'm forced to stand the cold. What's got you out so early on a Saturday?"

Immediately, Mary Margaret's cheeks flush, and Emma can tell that it has nothing to do with the cold. "Oh, nothing. Just, you know, getting out and about. Fresh air and all that. I stopped by the library earlier."

Emma leans forward and picks a strand of what is definitely dog fur off Mary Margaret's shoulder and smirks at the woman's look of horror. "Library, huh? I wasn't aware they allowed dogs in there."

"Oh, gosh," Mary Margaret murmurs, and Emma wonders if that counts as swearing the art teacher. "I was just... I stopped by the animal shelter."

"You're a big animal person, are you?"

"Well, I mean, I like them, but... I didn't go there for the animals." Emma raises an eyebrow at her, and somehow Mary Margaret's face becomes redder. "There might be a guy who works there that I... have taken an interest in."

Emma grins widely. She should've known. "Oh, I get it. What's his name?"

"David," Mary Margaret says and smiles fondly at the name. "David Nolan. He's... He's amazing, Emma. Honestly, I've never met anyone like him before. He's so kind and funny and has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. And he's got this smile-it makes my knees go weak every time. He's like a real life Prince Charming."

"He sounds pretty perfect," Emma remarks.

"He is." Despite that, though, Mary Margaret's face falls. "Well, all but one minor detail."

"Minor detail?" If the look on the pixie-haired woman's face is any indicator, Emma can assume it isn't so minor.

"Well, yes," Mary Margaret sighs. "It's just that... well, he's married."

Emma's mouth falls open. "Wow, that's what you call minor, huh? You and I must be measuring things on a totally different scale."

"I know, I know. It's ridiculous. I shouldn't even be thinking of him, much less making trips to the animal shelter to see him. I've told myself a thousand times that I'll stop going to see him, but I just... I can't stop, Emma." She looks at the blonde with desperate eyes. "Have you ever met someone who you can't help but think of all the time? Someone you're so drawn to that you can't stay away, no matter how hard you try? It's like you're made of metal, and they're a high-power magnet."

Emma rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean there. But, Mary Margaret, he's married. You have to realize that, unless he gets a divorce, you're only setting yourself up for heartbreak."

"I know. I do, Emma. And I don't want to be responsible for breaking up a marriage. But his wife, they're just so incompatible. He talks to me about her all the time, and he's so unhappy with her. He's even talked about leaving her before, but he's never done it."

"Men talk about leaving their wives all the time. They rarely ever do."

"You're right. I know that. It's just so hard, because I... I don't know, Emma. I think he might be it for me. The one. And he feels the same about me-I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me." She smiles at Emma. "He sees me, you know? Like no one else ever has before. He looks at me, and he sees more than I even see in myself. How can I let that go?"

Emma frowns. Sounds like Mary Margaret has it just as bad for this David guy as she does for Regina. "Look, Mary Margaret, I get it. I really do. I haven't been in that exact scenario before, but I know what you're feeling. Part of me thinks you should walk away and try to find someone else because he's married, and that may never change. But... I also know how unique it is to find something like that in life. How seldom someone like that comes around. I don't know if there is such a thing as a soulmate, but I know that a connection like that is hard to find in life."

"What would you do in my situation?" Mary Margaret asks her, and she is practically pleading for advice that Emma doesn't believe herself qualified to give. But she can't just leave the poor, lovesick woman with nothing.

So, Emma smiles back at her. "Well, I guess if I were in your shoes, and I felt as strongly for this guy as you do, I'd hold out hope. I'd keep seeing him. I wouldn't actively pursue him, but I would let him know that he has options. If he's really so unhappy with his marriage, he'll make the right decision."

Mary Margaret grins widely and throws her arms around Emma's neck. "Thank you, Emma! You're such a good friend."

Emma pats her back a bit awkwardly. She has never been one for much physical contact with others-barring Henry, of course. "No problem. Though, if you've got any issues bigger than guys, I suggest finding a licensed professional. I'm just street-smart."

"You're much more than that," Mary Margaret assures her, stepping back. "I, uh, I'm going to go home now and change."

"Yeah? What for?"

She beams. "Well, I can't very well wear this to volunteer at the animal shelter."

Emma grins crookedly back at her. "Go get him, tiger."

With another thank you and a goodbye, Mary Margaret scuttles down the street excitedly. Emma watches her go with a chuckle before replacing her earbuds and continuing her run. After she covers a mile or so, she turns back the other way and quickens her pace on the way back home. By the time she makes it up the stairs and inside, she is breathing heavily from exertion, and she leans against the door after she closes it.

"Well, you look like you need a shower," Henry observes from the couch where he hasn't moved since she left.

"It's called exercise, kid," she says back. "Maybe someday you'll discover it."

"I don't like sweating," he grimaces. "Or moving unless absolutely necessary."

She smirks. He certainly didn't inherit her athleticism. "Not true. When properly motivated, you move pretty fast." She grins. "Oh, hey, I ran into your friend, Violet. She's waiting for you downstairs."

He leaps to his feet and races to the door without a word. He doesn't seem to hear her laughter until his hand is on the doorknob, and he turns back to her with narrowed eyes and an annoyed frown.

"I guess you think that was pretty clever, don't you?" he says to her darkly.

"Gotcha," she chuckles back to him. "Don't get too worked up over it. I'll make it up when you persuade me into buying you too many new comic books. I'm going to shower and change first, and then we're out of here."

"This will take more than the usual to mend my broken trust," Henry tells her as she heads down the hall for the bathroom. "You'd better have your bank card on hand!"

She'd laugh if she didn't know he was totally serious.

After a shower, Emma changes into her favorite over-sized flannel and tight jeans with a pair of ankle boots. Comfort and warmth is the goal today, not fashion. She combs through her hair and dries it quickly, because she is sure that if she goes out with it wet it will freeze. Once it is dry, she pulls a beanie on for extra warmth and bounds back into the living room. Henry is dressed as well and carefully combing his fingers through his hair, checking his reflection in his phone screen mirror. Emma notices that he's wearing his nice jeans and pressed button-up, and she can smell the cologne-where the hell did he get that?-he's dowsed himself in from a mile away.

Grinning to herself, she sneaks up behind him before throwing her arms around him. "Oh, are you getting dolled up for your ma?"

"Hey, don't mess up the hair," he says, shrugging out of her embrace. "I just... I want to look nice."

"In case you happen to see a certain somebody?" Emma finishes for him, and his ears burn bright red. "Relax, kid. I'm not going to give you a hard time." She brushes his hair to the side so it doesn't cover his eyes and makes a mental note to make him a haircut appointment soon. "You look good. Although, word to the wise, lay off the cologne next time. Less is more where that is concerned. You want to entice her with the scent, not suffocate her."

"Duly noted," he nods. "You ready?"

"Yep. Make sure to grab your coat-it's frigid out there."

The two retrieve their coats from the closet, Emma shrugging on her favorite black leather one and walk outside together. They clamber into Emma's Bug, and she drives them to the mall the comic book store is in. They talk as they go, laughing and smiling at each other, and Emma is glad for it. Despite how fast he is growing up before her eyes, he's still her kid, and they can still talk about anything like always.

When they get into the comic book store, Henry busies himself in the Marvel section while Emma roams around aimlessly. While she has grown slightly more fond of the comic genre because of Henry's interest in them, they are still far from her favorite form of literature. She observes the stuffed doll version of Spiderman and nods her head aimlessly to whatever is playing over the speakers faintly. When that song ends, another plays immediately behind it, and she smiles slightly to herself. House of Pain. Back at the rec center she went to as a kid, she and the dance instructor came up with an entire routine to "Jump Around." Listening to the song now, she runs through the steps in her head, surprised by how much she remembers it.

Without realizing it, she dances along to the song while looking over a shelf of action figures. She hums along to the song, fingers tapping against her. Her head shakes from side-to-side, curls tossing from one shoulder to the other. She grins to herself, jumping in place to the chorus.

"Emma?"

The all-too-familiar voice freezes her on the spot, and her eyes widen as she spins around on her heel. Standing there with a far-too-satisfied smile on her lips is Regina fucking Mills.

Well, this is just predictably awful. Out of all the times for the woman to wander up on Emma, it had to be when she was making a total idiot of herself. Typical.

"R-Regina," Emma stammers, mouth open. "I, um, I was just..."

"Dancing?" Regina finishes for her, still smiling.

Emma releases a nervous chuckle and rubs the back of her neck. "Uh, yeah. I guess I was. It's sort of instinct when I hear this song. We used to dance to it when I was a kid at the rec center. I guess it's sort of ingrained in my head still."

"Well, don't stop on my account," Regina grins. "I was quite enjoying the show."

Emma feels her cheeks burning and knows they must be about the same shade of red as the shelf of Iron Man figurines beside her. Since when is she the one blushing and stuttering around Regina? How had they exchanged roles like that without her even realizing it?

"What, um, what brings you in here?" Emma questions, rubbing her hands on the outsides of her thighs because she can't be still at the moment for some reason.

"I was just doing some clothes shopping," Regina answers and nods to the bags on her arm. "I happened to see you and thought I'd stop and say hi."

"Oh, yeah?" Emma says nervously. "Cool, cool." God, what is she saying? She sounds like an idiot. Why is she so freaked out right now? Why can she hardly think of anything to say or do?

"You're interested in comics, are you?" Regina inquires.

"Me? Oh, no, not really. Henry's around here somewhere. He's a big Marvel nerd. Knows every character and plot line ever. I don't know where he wandered off to..." She peers around and catches sight of her son standing outside the shop. He is talking with Violet, who sips away on a smoothie from the food court and laughs at everything he says. At the sight of Henry talking so animatedly, gesturing wildly, Emma grins. "Ah, now I see why he hadn't asked me for money yet." Regina follows her line of sight and smiles as well. "Look at that, though. He's pretty good with her." Violet drops her purse and starts to get it, but Henry beats her to it, bending over and even dusting it off for her. "Oh, smooth, kid."

"Seems like you did impart some wisdom on him after all," Regina comments, and that reminds Emma that she does have game. She's not some simpering idiot. She's Emma fucking Swan, and she's smoother than Marvin Gaye when it comes to the ladies.

"Yeah, I suppose I did." She turns back to Regina with renewed confidence and a smile. "I'll bet he'll want to go and eat lunch with her in the food court, and I'm sure he doesn't want his mom tagging along. So, if you'd want to join me for a bite, we could have a really nice time making fun of them from a few tables away."

Regina laughs. "That sounds lovely."

They leave the comic book store, and as soon as he sees them, Henry asks Emma if he and Violet can go eat together. Then, the two preteens walk a few steps ahead of Emma and Regina to the food court.

"Oh, check it out," Emma says, nodding ahead. "They brushed hands, and Henry's malfunctioning." The boy's hand was frozen at her side, and his eyes are wide as he glances down it. "I'll have to fight him to wash it when we get back home."

"That's adorable," Regina smirks. "One of my favorite parts of my job is seeing these sorts of things. Kids are so awkward at that age anyway, and when you add in the chaotic hormones, it makes for a train wreck of a rom-com."

"Solid entertainment," Emma agrees. "We're in for dinner and a show."

After they've all ordered their meals, Emma and Regina settle down four tables behind where Henry and Violet are seated. Regina mixes her dressing in her salad while Emma stirs her container of Mongolian beef and takes a sip of her Root Beer, which she was surprised to find that Regina had ordered as well.

"So, about last night," Emma starts a bit uncomfortably, and Regina looks up at her immediately, lips pulling down. "Do you want to talk about it? I mean, we don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought maybe... maybe we should."

Regina hesitates, nibbling on her lower lip, and it is so sexy that Emma can only gape at her. "I suppose you're right. A lot happened in what felt like a very short amount of time. I do want to apologize for showing up so unexpectedly. I know you aren't ashamed of your job, and you shouldn't be, but I still should have made sure it was alright with you first before just blowing in like that. I should've been more respectful and considerate of your wishes. So, I am sorry for that."

Emma smiles softly. There she goes again-melting her with her words. "It's alright, Regina, really. I don't mind at all that you came. I'm glad you did. I don't mind the job itself, but I do hate where I work. The customers aren't exactly respectful, and it can be degrading sometimes. But with you there last night, I actually had fun while I was at work. You made it a good time. So, thank you for that."

"I had a good time as well," Regina nods and clears her throat as she busies herself with her salad, mixing it over and over but never taking a bite. "Perhaps we could do something like that again?"

Emma furrows her brow. "You know you can show up to the club anytime you want, right? Gold has an open-door policy."

Regina swallows. "That's not what I meant. I didn't mean that we should meet up again at your work. I meant that... we should talk again like that somewhere else. Somewhere private and with a much calmer atmosphere."

Emma's lips curl upward in a slow smile. "Wait a minute. It sounds like you're asking me out on a date. Is that what this is?"

Regina sighs, lips pursed. "I suppose I am. If you're interested at all, of course. If not, it's not pressure. I won't make it awkward between us or with Henry. We can just go back to being acquaintances."

"Regina, stop talking yourself out of it," Emma says to her and places her hand gently over hers. The brunette looks up at her finally, and there's clear hope in her eyes. "I am interested. Super interested. I'd like nothing more than to go out on a date with you." Regina's face lights up in a smile. "I have the evening off this Saturday. Maybe I could come around your place at five? We could get dinner somewhere nice and just talk. Get to know each other better. Does that sound good to you?"

Regina nods. "Yes, that sounds wonderful." Then, she knits her brow. "So, will that be our first date, or would that be the second?"

Emma smiles. Of course, this analytical woman would get hung up over such technicalities. "Actually, I think it could be our third one. Last night would be the first. And right now is the second."

Regina's eyes widen. "This is a date?"

The blonde shrugs her shoulders. "If we want it to be." She grins at her crookedly. "And I think I'd like for it to be."

Regina smiles back. "Yes, so would I."

Emma raises her soda cup with a comically serious expression. "To third dates."

Chuckling, Regina taps her cup with Emma's. "And many more to come."

Emma watches her sip from her cup with a goofy smile. "I sure hope so."


	16. Chapter 16

Regina sits on the edge of her bed, glaring between two starkly different dresses. One is a pale gray pencil dress with a matching blazer. It is a classy dress, acceptable for any occasion, and she's worn it to work a few times before, actually. The other dress is... well, not like that. She has never actually worn it-it was a gift from her sister when she told her she needed to go out and get some. At the time, she'd scoffed at Zelena and dismissed her as crude, but now... While Regina doesn't want to be presumptuous about her date, she is also very interested in the possibility of it leading to something more. It is, after all, technically her third date with Emma.

She's done well most of the day. She hasn't let herself overthink things or get worked up. She'd considered going to see Emma earlier at the diner under the pretense of simply wanting breakfast because sometimes it almost hurt to be away from the woman who'd consumed her every thought, but she talked herself out of it. She didn't want to jump the gun or appear too desperate. She'd already made a fool of herself quite enough in front of the blonde-she didn't need to do it a few hours before their date and make Emma rethink the entire thing. So, she stayed in most of the day and relaxed before the night. To keep herself from thinking too much about the coming date and psyching herself out, she'd kept busy. The entire inside of the large home is now spotless, and she even cleared the yard and walkway outside of all leaves. Before she even knew it, it had been time to get ready. The shower, hair-which she'd left curly because Emma likes it like that- and makeup had all happened without incident, and she had actually fooled herself into believing this would be easy. Now, as she agonizes over what outfit is more fitting, she realizes what a foolish thought that was. It couldn't be so simple.

She checks her watch and frowns. Four-forty-five. Emma will be here any moment to pick her up, and and if she doesn't hurry, she won't be ready when the doorbell rings. And she's still got to practice how she'll greet Emma.

Yeah, she almost made it the whole day without overthinking.

"Time to make a decision, Regina," she tells herself as she stands and approaches the two dresses. "It isn't that hard-you've only got two options. Just choose one."

She does, grabbing one without allowing a second thought, and pulling it on. When she walks in front of her mirror, she knows she has made the right decision. The black dress clings to her body like it was sewn onto her, and the front dips down to offer a view of her cleavage. It is short, reaching her upper-thighs and showing off her legs encased in black hose. It isn't like anything she would typically wear-certainly not something she'd ever wear to work, but it is nice. And she has an idea it will draw the desired reaction from Emma.

She pulls on a pair of black, high-heeled boots and coifs her hair in the mirror for a few minutes. Another layer of lipstick is briefly applied before she steps away from the mirror and grabs a cautionary burgundy blazer from her closet. It is now five til five, so she descends the stairs and waits in the den for the doorbell. She goes over in her head how she'll look when she opens the door, what she'll say. Of course, body language is just as important in this scenario. Should she lean against the door frame enticingly like people do in the movies? Or should she simply smile and invite Emma in for a drink before they leave?

Ten minutes pass, and it is five-oh-five. Regina is... a mess. She stopped planning her greeting out as soon as the clock struck five and Emma didn't show. Now, she is obsessing over what might have happened. Maybe she was in a car accident on the way here. Maybe she had to work late. Maybe Henry grew sick. Maybe she just changed her mind and doesn't want to go out with Regina after all. The brunette has never been stood up before, and she is particularly devastated by the idea of being stood up by Emma. This isn't just some stupid, obligatory date with some stranger. This is with someone she cares about. Someone she actually wants to see.

By 5:10, Regina is ready to accept her fate as a loser and stands to mope back upstairs, change into something more pathetic, retire with some form of alcohol and a pint of ice cream. It is as she makes her way up the first stair that the doorbell rings. Her face immediately brightens, and she nearly trips over herself scrambling to the door. She takes a moment to even her breathing and smooth any wrinkles from her dress before opening the door.

Emma stands there, long hair slightly disheveled and cheeks adorably flushed. She is breathing heavily as if she has been running, and her green eyes are frantic. She is wrapped up in a long, double-breasted coat that hides whatever dress she is wearing under it, but Regina can see a stripe of red peeking out around her knees. Long, defined legs lead down to a pair of black, strappy heels.

"Regina," Emma says, winded. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry I'm late. It's been a total disaster day. I had the biggest table ever at work earlier, and they were a total pain and kept me late. Then, Henry's babysitter was late-I told Belle that if she was late, I'd kill her, but does she listen to me? Of course not. And my car didn't want to start, and I just..." She takes a deep breath and shakes her head to calm herself. "I'm really sorry. I wanted this date to be totally perfect, and I've already screwed up."

Regina smiles at her as if she herself wasn't a similar mess only a few seconds ago. "It's alright, Emma. You haven't screwed up anything-the date hasn't even started yet. I understand completely. Sometimes things happen."

Emma offers her the most grateful of smiles. "Thanks." Then, her eyes drag down Regina's figure, and her mouth falls open in awe. Regina smirks to herself. Yep, that's the reaction she'd hoped for. "Wow, I'm stupid. Here I am babbling about my day when you look like this." She looks back into Regina's eyes. "You're beautiful, Regina."

And something about that touches Regina deeper than perhaps it should. It's because she says "you're beautiful." Not "you look beautiful." She calls Regina beautiful, and they both know that the statement extends so much further than the dress.

Regina clears her throat. "T-Thank you, Emma. You look lovely as well. Would you like to come in for a drink before we go?"

"I'd love to," Emma says, "but since I've put us behind schedule, we should probably go on to dinner." There's a mischievous, knowing smile on her face. "I'd hate for us to, um, miss our reservation."

"You made a reservation?" Regina repeats with her eyebrows raised as she exits the house. "In Storybrooke? You really didn't need to. The town is so small-nowhere is ever _that_ packed. Unless you're taking me to Granny's-that place does get pretty busy."

"Oh, God, no," Emma snorts. "I would never take you to Granny's. Not only am I sick of seeing that place today, but I'm not so inelegant, Regina. I know better than to take a woman like you there. You deserve much better than a diner."

"And where will we be eating?" she questions as they approach Emma's car on the curb.

Emma grins at her as she opens the passenger's door for her. "Nope. Not going to spoil it. You'll just have to wait and see."

Regina smirks. "Playing coy, are we?"

"Nope. I just can't wait to see your face when I surprise you." She closes the door and lopes around the car while Regina grins and shakes her head. It is cruel teasing, but the glow in those eyes and warmth in her smile softens the blow. Regina looks around the car and is pleased at how tidy it is. Emma had left it running while she went to the door, so it is still warm. She inhales the smell of fresh laundry that is spread throughout the car by a freshener clipped into one of the vents. Judging by the exterior of the Bug, she had worried the inside would be just as rough. It seems she judged too quickly and was proven wrong-something she does quite a lot where the blonde is concerned.

The radio is turned almost all the way down, but she can still make out the low sound of Prince playing from a casette tape. She smiles to herself.

Emma swings into the driver's side and pulls the car onto the road. She drums her fingertips absentmindedly along to the steering to the rhythm of "Little Red Corvette."

"You're a Prince fan?" Regina questions, and Emma looks over at her in surprise, not even realizing she was humming along to the song.

"Oh, yeah," she answers. "I love him. He was the first and last crush I ever had a on a guy, and I think that was mostly because I thought he was just a woman with a fake mustache. This Greatest Hits tape came out when I was, like, ten, and I used all my money to go buy it. That's the same tape-I think the only other thing I've ever kept up with so carefully is Henry." Regina laughs. "You like him, too?"

"Who doesn't? He's one of the most underrated musical talents of the century."

Emma pauses a moment before smiling crookedly at her before reaching to the console and turning the volume knob up. Regina grins widely as "Kiss" begins.

"This is my favorite one," Emma says and nods her head along to it. She begins to sing along, winking over at Regina. "'You don't have to be rich to be my girl. You don't have to be cool to rule my world." Regina laughs out loud at the falsetto voice Emma takes on, and the blonde nudges her to sing along.

"No way," Regina shakes her head. "I am not a singer."

"Me either," Emma shrugs. "Don't leave me hanging here."

Regina hesitates a moment longer before sighing in surrender and joining Emma.

"'Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with. I just want your extra time and your-'" They look at each other with big grins- "'Kiss.'"

"Nice," Emma says, turning the volume back down. "Coming in with the sneaky good vocals. I didn't know you could sing like that."

"Please," Regina shakes her head, cheeks burning. "That was not singing. That was just... messing around."

"Well, it sounded good anyway." Emma stops the car in front of the Storybrooke Library, and Regina furrows her brow.

"What's this?" she asks. "We're having our date here?"

"I've got an in here," Emma replies, wringing her hands nervously. "I know it's... unconventional, but I thought about this a lot. I didn't want to just take you out to some boring restaurant like anyone else in the world. I wanted to do something different, something special. I think you deserve that at least. I know from the outside, library date seems lame, but I think you're going to like what I've got inside. So, give it a chance?"

Regina smiles. "Of course, Emma. I never considered not."

Emma grins at her before they both slide out of the car together. Emma guides her into the library, using a key to open the closed door that Regina can only assume was given to her by her "in." Regina enters the dark room expecting to see exactly what she always does when she goes to the library, but she is immediately surprised.

The shadows dance under the glow of dozens of candles carefully set up around the room. The usual tables, chairs, and shelves have been pushed to the edges of the room to clear a space in the middle for the table for two that has been set up. A small candle is lit on the table and there are two plates of Porterhouse steak cooked medium, asparagus, and mashed potatoes set there along with a bottle of wine waiting for them.

Regina gasps, one hand rising to her hover over her mouth.

"I may have cornered your sister to find out what you usually order from that fancy steakhouse in town," Emma says, rubbing the back of her neck. "And she said you like Cabernet, too. Dessert's a cream cake that's supposed to be to die for, so I'm told. I, um, I hope the candles don't bother you. I asked Zelena, and she said you didn't have any allergies. I went with the non-scented just in case, though." She clears her throat awkwardly. "So, um, what do you think?"

"Emma, this is..." Regina shakes her head. "It's perfect. I can't believe you did all this for me." She smiles at the blonde. "You're amazing."

Emma beams back at her. "I'm glad you like it, and, as much as I'd love to say that I managed it all by myself, I did have some help setting this up. I owe Ruby and Belle so many favors it isn't even funny." She moves to their table and pulls out one of the chairs. She gives Regina a soft-eyed smile. "Shall we?"

"I'd love to." Regina walks to the chair and sits in it. Emma pushes it forward a few inches before sweeping around to the other chair and dropping into it. Before she does, though, she removes her coat, and Regina gets her first look of what lies beneath it. And what she sees renders her unable to think. Because Emma is wearing a red dress. A tight, red dress. A tight, red dress with no sleeves. So, her arms are out, all long and toned and perfect, biceps flexing without her even trying. And that figure is shown off so perfectly, so indescribably beautifully. And just how the hell is Regina meant to function properly under these circumstances?

Emma notices the hungry look in deep brown eyes as they roam up and down her and smirks as she takes her seat. "Something wrong?"

Regina blinks and clears her throat. "What? Nothing." She takes a sip of her wine. "I just can't believe how much thought you put into tonight. No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

"Well, the goal was to impress," Emma states with a grin. "It's our third date, after all. Had to make it memorable." Regina chuckles, and the two begin to cut into their steaks. She has a moment to catch her breath now that she is no longer overwhelmed by the perfect date and Emma's heart-stopping appearance. Or, at least, she does for about a second.

"Oh my _God._ " The breathy statement has Regina's brain short-circuiting again. Her eyes flutter up, heart pounding an unforgiving staccato in her chest, and she sees Emma chewing with her eyes closed and this look of utter satisfaction on her face. And Regina can't help but want to make that look come over her face and those sounds come from her lips in a whole different way entirely. "I'm so happy that I ordered the same as you." She opens her eyes and takes a drink of her wine. "I mean, I knew you had good taste, but this-this might be the best thing I've ever put on my tongue before."

She has to be doing this on purpose, doesn't she? The sounds and the smiles and the innuendos? Surely Regina cannot simply have _that_ dirty of a mind when it comes to the blonde? Right?

"I-I'm glad you like it," Regina says as if she prepared the meal herself. She drops her head and busies herself with eating, internally berating herself. Why is it that she can never just act normally around Emma? She has been attracted to people before, but never like this. never so strongly. She's an adult, for God's sake. She should be able to sit across a table from a gorgeous woman and still think properly. God, this woman will be the death of her, she's sure of it.

Apparently, she isn't doing a very good job of hiding her strange behavior, because Emma tilts her head and furrows her brow. "Regina, is everything okay? You seem like something's bothering you. I haven't done anything, have I?" And Regina can see the blonde begin to spiral as thoughts funnel in her brain. "I hope the private setting hasn't made you uncomfortable. I only thought that it would be easier for us to really talk here rather than a public restaurant. If you feel unsafe, though, we can-"

"Emma." Regina stops her by taking her hand and squeezing it tenderly. "It's alright. you haven't done anything wrong-in fact, you've done everything right. I'm not uncomfortable with you." It's at least halfway true since she isn't uncomfortable in the way Emma seems to fear she might be. "And I certainly don't feel unsafe with you." She smiles shyly. "To be perfectly honest, I feel safer with you than I think I ever have with anyone."

Emma smiles back at her. "I'm really glad to hear that, because I feel the same way with you." They resume eating, and Regina dreads the moment when Emma will pull her hand away from hers. It doesn't come, though, and her breath catches as a soft thumb rubs circles into her knuckle.

"I'm really glad you agreed to do this," Emma says, breaking the comfortable silence that had befallen them as they ate. "I was a little nervous about the date at first."

"Nervous?" Regina repeats with a furrowed. "Why would you be nervous? Everything is so perfect."

Freckled cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "Well, I mean, it's been a while since I've, y'know, dated." Regina raises her eyebrows. She certainly wouldn't have expected Emma to be romantically challenged like herself. "With Henry and work, I never really had the time or motivation before. Even when I did go out, it was never anything that I could see making it past the first date. I never met a person who I thought I could be involved with seriously. Someone I clicked with and someone who I knew Henry would approve of." Regina's breath catches, because could this mean that she's found that person in her? That they could be serious together? "But I already knew how much he loves you, and I feel like I've never connected with anyone the way I do with you. I mean, you know more about me than anyone ever has. You know about Henry. You know about my childhood. My night job. I've never felt like I could trust anyone to know all that. But with you... I guess I can, and it's weird how natural that feels sometimes."

This is so much more than Regina had allowed herself to hope for. Everything Emma says is so perfect and is everything she dreamed of when she agreed to this date. And she doesn't know if it's all those perfect words or the thoughtless patterns still being smoothed over the top of her hand or the dress or this night overall, but Regina is suddenly nervous. Really nervous. More nervous than she was before. Because now there is so much more to this than before. Now, the stakes are higher. There is more for her to lose, and she is scared to death she's going to mess it up somehow.

Which pretty much guarantees that she will.

"I know I'm getting kind of heavy," Emma chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck, and it's clear that she's anxious as well. Of course, she has a right to be. She's the one spilling her guts here, and Regina has yet to find the words to respond. "I just..." She takes a deep breath and looks directly Regina, and she is so obviously sincere. "I like you, Regina. A lot. I wouldn't usually say that outright like this, but I don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone before. I don't want to blow it by trying to play it cool. I don't want you to feel any pressure to say you feel the same way if you don't. I mean, we haven't even known each other that long really. And I... I'm sorry. I'm talking in circles here. I'm not used to talking about my feelings so openly-usually, I'm the exact opposite of this. I just want you to know that I like you, Regina." She smiles thinly, and there is hope in her eyes for Regina's answer.

Regina doesn't know where her next words come from, but they just blurt out. "I like you, too, Emma." The blonde brightens. "I'm so glad that we're friends now."

And just like that, the whole atmosphere is ruined. Emma's face falls completely, disappointment and rejection and pure devastation evident in her eyes, and she visibly shrinks in her seat under all that weight.

"Friends," she repeats, eyes dropping to her plate. "Oh, yeah. That's... That's great. I'm glad to know how you feel." And she has suddenly freed her hand from Regina's, her attention focused solely on her food now.

Regina could honestly cry right now. Why did she say that? After everything Emma had just told her, after all she'd done to make this date perfect, why in God's name did she fucking say that? She doesn't mean it. Her interest in Emma has never been as just a friend. Since the moment she first saw her, she has wanted her in a way that no one wants a friend. She's wanted her as so much more than that. Why the fuck did she say that?

She wants to take it back, to rephrase and tell Emma that she feels the same way, but too much time has passed now. Emma has clammed up like she did that night at Regina's house when she brought up her parents, and she clearly has no intention of opening back up. Suddenly, all Regina can do is talk about the weather and her job and things that don't really matter when her brain is screaming at her to make this right. Emma, because she is polite and wonderful, pretends to be engaged in the conversation, but her smiles are half-hearted, and she barely speaks more than a few words the rest of the night. When she takes Regina back home, she doesn't get out of the car to walk her to the door.

Regina sits in the passenger's seat, one hand on the door handle while she stares straight ahead. When she chances a look at the blonde, her eyes are trained intently on her lap, and her jaw is clenched.

"I had a great time tonight, Emma," Regina says quietly, and her response is limited to half of a nod. She swallows. "Maybe... Maybe we could do something like this again some time?"

"Maybe," is the hollow, cold answer, and Regina curses herself for doing this. "I... I need to go now. Henry is expecting me."

Regina nods stiffly. "Of course." She opens the car door and steps out. Emma loosens up a bit now that she is out of the car, but she is still staring at her lap when Regina ducks her head back down. "I'll see you again soon?"

"Uh-huh," Emma grunts, and her knuckles are white from how hard she is gripping the steering wheel. Regina shivers, her stomach churning sickly. "Bye, Regina."

The brunette hesitates, and she thinks she'll get back in the car. She thinks she'll demand that Emma look at her. She thinks that she'll explain that she didn't mean it. That Emma didn't read into this wrong. That there is so much more there besides friendship. That Regina wants so much more.

But that is just a dream because Emma won't look at her now, and Regina is much too much of a coward to make her. So, instead, she swallows again, mutters a goodbye, and closes the door. Emma is gone before she is even halfway up the walkway.

Inside her house, Regina begins to shake. She rushes to her study and pours out a glass of cider to calm her nerves, but she knows nothing will help. Not now that she has ruined everything by being so afraid. She takes a sip of cider, and her eyes meet her own reflection in the mirror on the wall. She didn't realize that she was crying, but there the tears are, running tracks of mascara down her cheeks. She's pathetic in her dress with her curly hair that Emma likes and her smeared makeup. She's a coward and a liar, and now she's ruined any chances of a relationship with Emma. Whatever progress she'd made with her now is destroyed. She's right back to Emma hating her, and, just like before, she has no one to blame but herself.

Screwing her face up in disgust at herself and releasing an anguished sob, she hurls her glass at the mirror and kneels down as the glass shatters. She cries into her hands and curses herself and hates herself as that look of agony and betrayal in Emma's eyes replays over and over in her head.

* * *

 _A/N: *smiles apologetically* Hey, remember how great things have been going for these two in the last few chapters? Yeah. Hold onto that. This chapter is far from the end, I promise. It's going to get sweet again._


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: So, I know it shouldn't have, but some of your responses to that last chapter had me rolling. I know. Cruel writer laughs at your pain. I'm going to hell. Anyway, I guess I was inspired to write a quick follow-up so y'all wouldn't start asking for my head on a pike. We get a look at how Emma handles Regina's prior fuck-up (spoiler alert: it is not well). Just know that the last chapter legitimately killed me to write, and this one wasn't much easier. But it's got to get worse for the pair before it gets better, and I honestly think that is true to their characters in the show as well. The important part of all this is that it WILL get better. I've said it before: I don't do sad endings. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. Don't hate me just yet please. :)_

* * *

Emma takes the drive back home slowly, and she tries really hard not to think about whatever the hell just happened. She tries not to think about how fantastic Regina looked or how promising the date had begun. Emma had looked forward to that evening for the entire week, and she'd planned dinner out to a tee. She'd put so much time and effort to make it perfect, so she could tell Regina how she felt. She took a chance, and that is something she so seldom does with her heart. The last person she'd allowed herself to be so open with had broken her heart and so much more, and she'd told herself after that she wouldn't put herself in the situation to be taken advantage of again. But then Regina came along, and she thought for sure that it would be different this time. That Regina wouldn't do that to her, because she'd seemed so real to Emma. So genuine. She seemed like she could trust her.

Apparently not, though. Once again, Emma had put herself out there, and once again she'd gotten her heart broken. And she doesn't want to blame Regina, because she can't control her feelings. If she only sees Emma as a friend, she is glad that she told her. She is just really, really confused, because it hadn't seemed that way. She thought for sure that Regina was into her-it is certainly what all the signs pointed towards. The way she acted towards her, the way she looked at her. Emma had thought for sure that the feelings were mutual.

Maybe Regina does like her body as more but not the rest of her. Maybe she is interested in a more casual kind of relationship. Maybe Emma just came onto strong. She knew she shouldn't have-she never would've normally. When she gets around Regina, she suddenly seems to lose control of her mouth. Something she'll have to be more careful of now that she knows how the brunette really feels.

Or maybe it's her job. Maybe Regina decided she couldn't get over how beneath her Emma is. That she wouldn't be okay with dating a stripper. Maybe it was, after all, just a ploy to get closer to Henry that Regina couldn't make herself go through with. Whatever it was, Emma knows now that she was a fool for ever entertaining the idea that Regina Mills with her respectable job and her big house would ever want someone like her.

"God, you're an idiot," she mutters to herself, shaking her head angrily. How could she have been so blind? She is usually so great at reading people, but she couldn't even tell that Regina is only interested in being friends. How stupid could she be? She'd probably made the poor woman uncomfortable all night long, and that was the very last thing she wanted to do. She'd be lucky if Regina ever spoke to her again after this disaster.

When she gets back home, Henry and Belle are sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching Spider-Man. As soon as she opens the door, though, they abandon the film and jump to their feet with bright eyes.

She furrows her brow at them both. "Uh... What's up, guys?"

"How was it?" Henry asks excitedly.

"Did she love your outfit?" Belle demands. "I know she did-you look so good!"

"Did she like the dinner we set up at the library?"

"Did you guys kiss?"

At that, Henry wrinkles his nose at the brunette. "Hey, gross. No. That's my mom and my teacher." He glances back at Emma curiously a second later, though. "But, uh, did you?"

Emma smiles halfheartedly back at them both. "There was no kiss. She seemed to enjoy dinner, yeah. I don't know if she liked my outfit. I think she did, but... as it turns out, I'm not as great at reading people as I thought."

"What?" Henry says. "You're the best at it. You're a human lie detector, remember?"

She sighs, kicking her heels off and hanging her coat up. "Not with everyone apparently, kid."

"What happened?" Belle frowns. "You seem... disappointed. What went wrong?"

Emma rubs her arms subconsciously. "Nothing. I just... She wasn't interested in me the way I thought."

"What?" Henry asks. "That's crazy! Everyone who has ever seen you guys together can tell she totally is. I mean, it's sick, but she gets heart eyes every time she sees you." He shakes his head. "Maybe you misunderstood her."

"Hard to misunderstand her when she says that we're just friends," Emma shrugs, and he frowns. "Hey, look, it's no big deal. We tried it out, we had an okay time, and now I know how she feels. It's good that we got it out of the way. I don't have to wonder anymore, and I can move on." Her smile is thin and forced. "No harm, no foul, right?"

"Emma," Belle says with clear sympathy in her eyes that makes the blonde's stomach churn. "I'm sorry. I know how excited you were about this and how hard you worked."

"Like I said, it's good that I at least know where we stand now." She clears her throat. "Thanks for babysitting and helping out, Belle. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Em. Anytime." She hugs Henry. "See you later, squirt."

"Bye, Belle."

The brunette moves to collect her purse and coat and heads for the door. She stops to envelope Emma in her arms, squeezing her tight, and the blonde leans into her for a brief moment of support.

"If it means anything at all," Belle whispers in her ear, "it is her loss. I don't know her, but I know you're too good for her."

Emma smiles sadly. "Thanks, B." A kiss is pressed to her cheek before Belle leaves the apartment to head home.

When Emma turns back around, Henry looks at her skeptically, and she claps her hands together.

"So, Spider-Man, huh?" she says. "What do you say to a marathon, kid? I'm pretty sure we've got some Snickerdoodles. When is the last time we did a Midnight Cookies-and-Movie Madness Marathon?"

He crosses his arms. "Ma. Stop trying to act like it's okay." She frowns. "I can tell this is bothering you." She sighs, and he squeezes her shoulder tenderly. "What happened? I mean, I figured you'd come back dancing over how well it went. Where did it go wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Honestly, kid? I have no clue. It started out perfectly. She seemed to love the dinner thing. We were talking and having a great time. And then... I don't know, maybe I was too honest with her. Too up front. I told her that I liked her and that I could see us, y'know, becoming something serious." Henry nods. He and his mother had discussed all of this before the date. Emma had wanted to make sure he was comfortable with the idea of them dating, and he assured her he was. Because he really was. He has always wanted his mother to meet someone, and Regina seemed like the perfect one. How could they both have been so wrong? "And she said she was happy we were friends now."

Henry frowns. "Aw, Ma. I'm sorry." He pulls her into a hug, and she rests her head on his shoulder. "I really thought that she liked you more than that. I don't know how she doesn't."

Emma smiles sarcastically. "I know, right? I'm such a catch, after all."

"Hey, you totally are," he says. "You're, like, the coolest mom ever, and you're funny and awesome. And, I guess, most people-people who are so not me-would say you're really pretty, too."

She chuckles. "Well, you're not the most impartial judge, kid." Then, she is serious. "Listen to me, Henry. I don't want you to let this influence how you feel about her. I know how much you adore her, and I want you to continue feeling that way. If I get any word that you're letting this or anything else mess you up in her class, I'll have your ass. Got me?"

"Yeah, I got you." He looks at her sincerely. "I really am sorry, Ma. I thought it would work out. I hoped it would. You and Regina... you guys just seemed so perfect together. I wanted it to work out."

"Me, too, kid. But it's alright. I'll survive-I always do. You don't need to worry about me."

"I just want you to be happy, Ma."

She wraps an arm around his shoulder. "Kid, you know me. The only person I need to make me happy is you. Nobody else." She kisses his cheek, and he smiles. "Now, are you going to help me make these cookies or what?"

"Absolutely." The two of them spend the rest of the night camped out on the sofa together watching movies and munching cookies. They don't talk anymore about the date or Regina. They curl up together, Emma with her arm around him and his head on her shoulder, and they smile and laugh together. And, just for a little while, Emma is able to forget about how disappointed she is. How heartbroken. How fucking awkward it's going to be the next time she sees her son's teacher.

Emma wakes up the next morning still on the couch with Henry lying basically on top of her and a massive crick in her neck. She winces before cracking it and slides carefully out from under him. It's early still-barely seven o'clock, and she doesn't have to be at Granny's until nine that day. Even so, she gets her shower out of the way early and changes into her work clothes. Henry is still sawing logs on the couch when she moves into the kitchen and begins making them bacon and pancakes. She starts a pot of coffee and leans against the kitchen counter while the bacon fries, glancing over her cell phone.

She frowns at the screen. She has a missed call. From Regina. At four o'clock that morning. And then, fifteen minutes after the call, she has a text message. She reads the two words in the gray word bubble with a frown.

 _I'm sorry._

She's sorry? What the fuck is that supposed to mean anyway? She's sorry for ruining their date last night? She's sorry for breaking Emma's heart? She's sorry for the way she feels? Or she's sorry for the way Emma feels? God, it's pity. It's a pity text from Regina, and it makes Emma want to puke. She narrows her eyes before typing a response.

 _No need to apologize. It's fine, dude. No big deal. Like you said, I'm just glad that we're friends._

The text is casual. Like what she'd send to a friend. A friend she didn't really care all that much for, honestly. She even called Regina "dude" for God's sake. _Dude!_ That was the term she reserves for guys who try to hit on her. Whatever. She hopes that's how Regina reads it. She doesn't want the pity. She doesn't need it. Not from anybody but especially not from Regina.

"Morning." Henry stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning sleepily, and he smiles at her.

She smiles back, disregarding her phone as well as the whole Regina mess. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty. You up for breakfast?"

"Always." He plates himself a stack of pancakes and a couple pieces of finished bacon. "So, you have work at Granny's today? Just Granny's?"

"Yep," she confirms. "Don't have the second job until tomorrow. So, when I get off at five today, we can do whatever we want. I was thinking I'd take you and a certain girl whose name rhymes with Schmiolet out for dinner and ice cream."

He smirks. "Really, Ma? Schmiolet? You want to eat with me and Vi?"

"Yeah. I mean, she and I have met, but we haven't really got to talk yet. I've been waiting a long time break out the scary, single mother routine." His face falls in mortification at the mere idea, and she laughs out loud. "Kid, joking. Totally joking. You know that isn't my style. Unless she hurts you. Then, all bets are off."

He grins. "Thanks, Ma. I'll call her and see if she's free."

The two enjoy breakfast together before Emma leaves for work. She gets there a little early to prepare for the Sunday brunch crowd that never fails to pack the place out by ten o'clock in the morning and meets Ruby inside as she is wiping down the bar.

"Morning," she greets.

Immediately, Ruby throws her arms around her. "I'm so sorry, Em!"

The blonde frowns. "Sorry? Sory about what? Ruby, get off me." She pushes the waitress off. "What are you talking about?"

"The date," she says.

Emma's eyes widen. "Date? How do you even know about that?"

"Small town, word spreads," she responds simply. "Also, Henry might've let it slip to me before that you and Regina were going out. I was texting him for play-by-plays the entire night." She frowns angrily. "Just so you know, Regina Mills is a fucking moron, and you're, like, a beautiful butterfly. She totally missed out, and the whole town is on your side."

"Jesus Christ," Emma rolls her eyes as she clocks in for the day. "Can we just not talk about it? All I want to do is forget that last night even happened." She turns just in time for Granny to step up to her. Her eyes are soft behind her glasses as she claps a hand on her shoulder chummily.

"Stay strong, hon," the old woman says brusquely. "It'll get better in time."

"Oh, for the love of God, not you, too!" She marches behind the counter and makes a fresh pot of coffee before flipping the sign from Closed to Open. "I don't want to hear another word about this from anyone, got it? As far as you're concerned, nothing happened last night. I didn't go on a date. It's just a normal day like any other. Got it? Good!"

Except it most certainly is not just a normal day, because every person who walks into the diner gives Emma a pitying look and words of encouragement, which the blonde snaps at irritably. She doesn't care about service with a smile when she's living a nightmare on a loop. She just tries to make it through the day without throttling anyone.

Emma is kneeling behind the counter, searching tirelessly for the extra menus they keep some damn where under there, when the familiar opening riff to "Kiss" plays out from the jukebox. She groans before standing up and glaring at Ruby as she passes by.

"Turn this off," she orders.

"What? Why?" the brunette questions. "I love this song. It's Prince. Everyone loves Prince."

"Turn it off," Emma growls out, "or I smash the jukebox with my bare hands. You can take it out of my paycheck-I don't care."

Ruby knits her brow. "Dude, you literally told me last week that you loved this song. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that I do not want to hear it right now, so can we please turn the damn song?"

The diner is silent, and Emma catches the small gasp from behind her. She spins around, ready to chew whoever it is out for simply existing on such a shitty day, when she freezes. It's Regina. With Zelena and Kathryn. And they're all three gaping at her.

She is so not in any mood to handle this bullshit.

"Oh, what fresh hell is this?" she breathes out, pinching her brow in annoyance.

"Emma-" Regina starts, but the blonde turns away from her immediately.

"Rubes?" she pleads. "Do you mind grabbing this table? I'll trade you for Whale." Any other day, she'd avoid the perverted doctor like the plague, but today he is preferable to the mortification of serving the woman who basically dumped the night before.

Ruby gives her a sympathetic look, and it's the same one that everyone has given her, the one that makes her feel like she wants to explode. "Sure thing, Em." The brunette faces the three women with a scorn as she seats them begrudgingly. Regina allows herself to herded to a booth the farthest away from Emma, but her eyes never once leave the blonde.

It is one o'clock, which means she only has another four hours left before her shift, and Emma is counting every minute until she can officially clock out. She just wants to be anywhere but here right now. Moping around the diner, forcing herself not to look at a woman whose eyes she can feel on her every second is torture like she couldn't even imagine. And of course she looks like shit today as well with her bare face and wrinkled clothes and her back aching from a night spent on the couch while her twelve-year-old kid wallowed her. She just wants to be done with today. She wants to crawl into her bed and be done with adulting at least until she has to get up bright and early the next day to take Henry to school and come back to this godforsaken job that, on any other day, she actually likes.

She massages her now throbbing head while taking an order back to Granny. She is just sliding the paper from her pad over the kitchen window when the bell over the door rings, announcing yet another customer, and she releases a long, agonized sigh before glancing to the clock. Just three hours and fifty-six minutes to go.

"There's my girl!" She turns at the familiar voice to see Belle strutting up to her, and apparently everyone has forgotten how little she enjoys physical contact with people who aren't her son, because the brunette wraps her arms around Emma's neck and pulls her close against her.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hisses.

"Saving you," she says back quietly. "Ruby texted Henry who texted me an SOS about Regina showing and you blowing up. I'm here as a distraction." She pulls back and grins at her. "And a pawn."

"Pawn?" Emma repeats with a frown. "What are you talking about?"

Belle just smiles widely before planting a firm kiss on both of Emma's cheeks, which turn bright scarlet in response. Her eyes involuntarily fly to the booth near the door where Regina is staring at them like she could chew nails.

"So good to see you again," Belle declares loudly. "I feel like I never get to see you anymore."

Emma looks at her with wide, awestruck eyes. "Dude, _what_ is going on? I am so confused."

"It's called payback," Belle tells her. "She hurt you. You're my main bitch. That means I'm entitled to hurt her back. Now, I'd like you to join me for dinner."

"I'm working."

"No, she's not," Ruby pipes in from across the counter, and Emma shoots her a glare. "She's on break. You got thirty minutes, Em."

Belle grins devilishly. "That's all I'll need." Gasping Emma's hand, she hauls her to a table far to near to Regina's for Emma's liking and forces her to sit beside her. Ruby, because she already knows exactly what is going on, brings them over a couple burgers, a basket of fries for the two of them, and a large Root Beer with two straws.

"There you two are," she says gleefully. "The lovebird special." She winks at Emma's red face while Belle giggles and tangles their arms together. "You two enjoy yourselves."

"Oh, I certainly intend to," Belle answers.

Emma lets out a small, shocked squeak. "Come on. Is your goal to annoy Regina or just embarrass me to death?"

"Definitely to annoy her, but the blush on your pretty face is so an added bonus." Emma scowls at her, but Belle ignores her and grabs a fry. "Now, open up, snookums."

"No," the blonde says stubbornly. "I'm a grown woman. I can feed myself, thanks." She grabs her own fry and goes to put it in her mouth, but Belle swoops in last minute to pop the fry in Emma's mouth.

"That's my Sweet Buns," she beams, patting Emma's cheek.

"Sweet Buns?" Emma repeats. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?" She glimpses over at Regina who is suddenly very interested in whatever Zelena is saying at their table. "She isn't even looking. Seriously, this isn't accomplishing anything, Belle. She doesn't care." Her head drops because, yes, deep down, she'd wanted this to hurt Regina. That would mean she felt something for her after all. But no. No such luck.

"Hey, Em." Belle takes hold of Emma's chin and lifts her head to look back at her. "It's okay, you know? We don't have to do this whole show if you don't want to. We can just eat and talk, and I can just be the distraction." She smiles simply. "No games. No payback. Just you and me hanging out. Girlfriends."

Emma smiles back at her before allowing her forehead to fall against her shoulder. She may not like physical contact with the non-Henries of the world, but damn it if she doesn't need it sometimes. Belle rubs her back soothingly like the amazing friend she is, and Emma wonders how she got so lucky to have great, annoying friends like her and Ruby. "Thanks, B. I need that right now, honestly."

"Anytime, Em." She pecks her temple lightly, and it is a genuine, comforting gesture between friends that Emma appreciates.

To everyone else, though, it apparently looks like something much more intimate.

The sound of a chair scraping against the linoleum floors shrieks out, and Emma raises her head. She finds Regina standing from her seat, fists clenched at her sides, chest heaving with ragged breaths, jaw squared. Her eyes are blazing with so many emotions that Emma cannot even begin to comprehend. But there is most certainly jealousy there.

If Regina has any plans of what she would do after jumping to her feet, she doesn't follow through. Just stands there and glares at them. The diner is quiet, and the tension is thick enough to strangle Emma. Finally, she can't handle it anymore, and she stands quietly.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom a second," she tells Belle, who nods her head before cutting her eyes distastefully back to Regina. Swallowing and trying to remember how to breathe, Emma makes her way shakily to the bathroom, where she nearly collapses over the sink. Turning the cold water on, she wets her palm and presses them against her now-clammy face. Looking in the mirror, she is met with her own bewildered expression.

"What the hell is even going on?" she mumbles to herself. Everything has spiraled out of control so quickly. First, it was all the pathetic looks and words she was forced to be on the receiving end of. Then, of course, Regina just had to show up at her work knowing good and well that she'd be there-surely to rub salt into the still burning wound. And then there was all this shit with Belle. And what the fuck is that look on Regina's face? What is the jealousy? It doesn't make sense, not when all she wants is friendship.

"What does this woman want from me?" Emma shakes her head. She's never met anyone who had her so twisted. Straightening up, she looks at herself with determination. "You're not going to let her get to you, Emma. Obviously, she doesn't know what she really wants, either. Hell, she could have multiple personality disorder, and that's something you don't want any part of." No way. She saw Split, and she's not waiting around for Regina's twenty-fourth personality to emerge. "You're going to go back out there with your head held high, and you're going to ignore her until she fucking leaves. Show her that you couldn't give a damn either way what she wants or thinks or feels about you." She nods to herself. "Yeah. Fuck it up, Emma."

Propelled by her own obscenity-laden pep talk, she struts back out of the bathroom towards her table with Belle. Only Belle isn't sitting anymore. She's standing, and she's yelling. At Regina. Who is in her face, yelling right back.

"What right have you got to tell me to stay away from her?" Belle shouts furiously. "You think I'm afraid of you? I'm not. You lost your chance with Emma last night, and you don't get to dictate who she spends her time with. Not after how you treated after all the trouble she went through for you. If you wanted to be with her, you should've said so."

"Regina, let's go," Kathryn says as she pulls on her friend's arm. Zelena is sitting at their table still with a smirk, looking as though she is enjoying all of this quite a lot. Of course, she is. She's a fucking sociopath. "You're going to say something you regret."

"I'm not dictating anything to her!" Regina bellows back, shaking Kathryn off, and there is a vein popping out of her forehead that Emma thinks probably isn't healthy. "I'm telling _you_ to back off now!"

"Oh, I think Emma can decide for herself who she wants to be around, and that certainly isn't you."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I-"

Granny makes her way out from the back to break the fight out, rolling her sleeves up with a scowl, but someone beats her to the punch.

" _Hey!_ " Emma stomps between the two angrily, pushing them back from each other. They continue to glower at each other even while Emma situates herself between them. "Are you two out of your minds? This isn't a wrestling ring. It's a restaurant. If you've got beef, you take it outside. Not in here where I work." She looks between them with her teeth clenched. "I'm capable of speaking for myself. I don't need either of you to scream at each other for me. I am going back to work now, and you two are going to chill the hell out. If you can't or won't, you can leave and keep fighting in the parking lot. I really don't care as long as you're not doing it in here."

"Emma," Regina says as the blonde starts to walk off, and she reaches for her arm. "Please, I need to talk to you."

Emma spins around, and her eyes are lit with a rage that clearly shocks the brunette. "I told you I'm working. I am not doing this right now. Get that through your head." Her voice is low to keep from causing anymore of a scene, but it is shaking with anger and no less terrifying than if she were screaming at the top of her lungs. "Now is not the time, and there isn't a point anyway. You made your stance on all this very clear last night. I really don't need a repeat of that humiliation."

Regina looks like the words are killing her, but somehow Emma can't find it in herself to feel bad about it. She is just too mad and tired and done with all this shit. "I want to explain myself."

"Oh, is that it? That's great, Regina. Really. You want to explain yourself." She jerks out of her grasp harshly. "Too bad I don't really give a fuck right now. I don't care what you want, to be honest. Not today. I am not in the mood to listen to your explanations. I'm going back to work. I suggest you finish your lunch and leave quietly before I decide not to be so charitable."

And with that, she turns her back to Regina and storms to the next table. When she glances up a few minutes, Regina, Kathryn, and Zelena are gone, and the tension leaves her shoulders in a slump.

Well, at least she can fucking breathe now. Unfortunately, business has slowed down, and there is very little to take her mind off how much she really hates herself for what she just said.

She does want an explanation. She does care. She wants to talk to Regina. She wants to understand. She wants some fucking answers, because it certainly didn't seem like Regina was being just her friend today. She wants so much, but she also really doesn't want Regina, the woman who has humiliated her now twice in front of the whole goddamn town, to know how much she wants. She's got more pride than that.

She just really hopes that pride isn't going to fuck her over in the end.


	18. Chapter 18

"God, I am an idiot." Regina shakes her head as she collapses on her sofa. Kathryn and Zelena collapse on either side of her dramatically. "Why did I let you two talk me into going there? She was working, and I just showed up as if I had any right."

"You do," Kathryn says. "Regina, you've got to talk to her. You've got to explain that you didn't mean what you said last night. I mean, obviously, she was as devastated by it as you."

"You're going to have to work this out, sis," Zelena agrees. "I refuse to start avoiding the diner because you fucked it up with Emma. I have to eat. If I don't get my onion rings at least twice a week, I'll die."

Regina glares at her. "Wonderful to hear that you're thinking of me rather than yourself for once, Zelena. Very touching."

The redhead smirks and lays a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Hey, I'm only joking there. Sort of. I am concerned for you, Regina. Kathryn's right. Emma was clearly very upset from the date-which means she still really likes you despite your word vomit incident. Which is good. We can work with that. You've just got to figure out the right time and place to talk it out with her."

"Today would've been if that stupid friend of hers hadn't gotten in the way," Kathryn frowns darkly.

"You mean the one who is most likely her girlfriend?" Regina finishes miserably. "She's probably comforting Emma right now, talking about how terrible and stupid I am." She groans. "This is hopeless."

"Totally not her girlfriend," the blonde says resolutely. "Emma is not into girls who wear that much floral-I can tell. Besides, Emma looked just as shocked by everything the girl did as we did. She's probably just a friend who swooped into try and save Emma and make you jealous."

"She looked so... so sad when she saw me," Regina mumbles, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs uncertainly. "I have never seen her look like that before. God, she's never going to give me another chance now-I don't deserve it. I blew it because I'm a scared idiot."

"While that my be true," Zelena states, earning herself a glare from both Regina and Kathryn, "I don't think you've totally screwed it up. Emma did look really hurt and really mad. But she also looked like she would've liked nothing better than to throw her arms around you and bone you all night long."

"God, you're crass," Kathryn shakes her head.

Regina narrows her eyes. "How do you know that?"

She shrugs. "I'm quite good at reading pheromones, alright? Whether she meant them to be or not, your girl Emma's were off the charts as soon as she laid eyes on you. I'm honestly shocked she didn't start dry-humping your leg." She sighs, straightening her back and turning to face her sister head-on. "What I'm saying, sis, is that she is still very much into you. You've still got a chance with her if you'll just explain yourself to her."

"I tried," the brunette says, falling woefully against the back of the sofa. "I tried to talk to her today, and she all but shouted at me to go to hell. How am I supposed to explain myself if she won't even let me be around her?"

"She was already pissed before we walked in there," Kathryn reasons. "And then, y'know, you got into a brawl with her friend at her workplace. That probably didn't help matters."

"It wasn't a brawl," Regina snaps. "It was just... God, I don't know what got into me. You two know me. You know I'd never do something so rash normally, I just... She makes me crazy."

"You were being jealous and protective because you're mad for the stripper, we get it," Zelena sighs. "You've just got to make her get it. I say you do a strip tease for her. That's what got your attention with her the first time, after all. And no one in their right mind is going to argue with a woman who is half-naked and gyrating on top of them. It's physically impossible." She looks over to Kathryn. "Right, Kitty-Kat?"

"She's right," the blonde says, cheeks reddening from the memory. "It is... distracting."

"I'm not doing a strip tease," Regina rolls her eyes. "I just have to figure out the best place and time to talk with her. Some time when she has no excuse to blow me off."

"Ah, yes," Zelena nods. "A situation wherein you are the least unpleasant thing she must face. That is an excellent way to begin a relationship."

That night, Regina doesn't sleep a wink for tossing and turning and trying to figure out what to do about the situation with Emma. When she wakes up early the next morning for work, she is a mess of exhaustion and anxiety and despair because even after all that thinking and worrying, she still has no plan for how to mend what she has broken between them. She only hopes that work passes quickly and painlessly.

Which, of course, it doesn't. Regina's in a bad mood from the get-go, so she is less patient with her students who seem to be hell-bent on acting out and getting on her damn nerves. By the time her final class rolls around, she has already sent two students to the principal's office and issued out more detention slips than she'd care to recall. True, they had all been fair punishments, but this is not the way she likes to handle misbehavior in her classroom. She'd rather deal with them personally, talk to the students, be understanding and compassionate yet firm. She just doesn't have it in her today, though. Not with Emma's furious words still thundering around in her head.

Regina is sitting at her desk with her head bent low over... something. She's not looking at it as she pretends to be busy. Her eyes are closed, and one hand is massaging her temple. It's been a day from hell, and she's got an idea that another sleepless night is waiting for her back home. God, she can't function like this. She has to work things out with Emma before she loses her mind altogether.

When the bell announces the start of final period, Regina rouses herself unenthusiastically to her feet and begins to write on the whiteboard some inane busy work assignments for her class to tend to while she tries to brainstorm ideas for getting back in Emma's good graces. After she finishes writing, she turns and tells her classroom what they are to do for the entire period. Her eyes land on Henry for a moment, and she prays that he knows nothing of what has gone on between her and his mother. By the frown on his face and the angry, hurt look in his eyes, she knows that he does, and it kills her to have him look at her like that. She can't blame him, though. She knows how protective he is of his mother, how much he loves her. After how Regina had hurt her, she wouldn't be surprised if he never speaks to her again outside of class. And, God, that hurts.

Regina spends the entire class hiding behind her computer monitor. She answers questions when they are asked-though her students seem to realize she needs to be alone and stay quiet for the most part-but otherwise doesn't say a word. She can't help but steal glances at Henry every few minutes. Usually, he is looking anywhere but at her, but in the few times their eyes connect, he scowls at her before turning away again.

She is so screwed. She can't think of a time where she has messed up so badly before in her life. Even if she does manage to get Emma's forgiveness, Henry will never trust her with his mother again. And, as Emma herself had said on their date, if Henry doesn't approve of the relationship, it doesn't have a chance.

The final bell rings, dismissing the students when Regina didn't, and she slumps over her desk while running her fingers through her hair. All day she'd thought about how to fix her screw-up, and she still doesn't have anything even resembling a plan.

She doesn't realize that someone is standing at the end of her desk until a throat is cleared. Lifting her head, she is surprised to find Henry there, his arms crossed and his expression uncharacteristically stern.

"Henry," she breathes, eyes wide. "What are you...? I-I didn't expect to-"

"I have questions," he says resolutely, "and I want answers." She swallows. "Here's the deal, Ms. Mills: I am super confused. Because I really thought you liked my mom. Honestly, I did. I think everyone did. That is why I told her that she should totally go for it when she asked if I was okay with the two of you dating. I thought you'd be the person to make her happy. When she left the apartment to go see you, she was excited. Like, genuinely giddy over the date. Do you know the last time I saw her like that?" Regina shakes her head. "Never. Since I was born, my mother has been on maybe ten dates- _maybe_. And not for one of those other dates did she ever get excited like that. I thought she'd come home just as happy, but she didn't. She was crushed. Heartbroken, actually." Regina's chest tightens in guilt and shame. "And she made me promise not to be angry with you for just wanting to be friends. But, y'know what, Ms. Mills? I am angry. I'm angry because I'm pretty sure that the whole 'just friends' thing is a total crock." She raises her eyebrows. She will never not be amazed by how astute he is for a young boy. "So, you want to tell me what happened?"

Regina sighs. "You're right, Henry. I do like your mother. A lot and not just as a friend. In fact, I can't remember a time when I felt quite so strongly for someone before. Our date-it was perfect. She was perfect. She went to all that trouble for me, and then she started talking about... about how she felt. And she was so honest and open about it, and I guess... I just froze. I got nervous and freaked myself out. I don't have the best track record when it comes to relationships, Henry. I've had several very bad ones in the past. Usually, I'm the one who cares too much. I'm the one who does everything for the other to show how I feel. I'm the one who gets heartbroken in the end. Being in the other position with your mother last night... I didn't know how to respond. I knew what I wanted to say, but, before I knew it, I was saying some stupid lie about just being friends."

He narrows his eyes. "And what did you really want to say?"

She looks at him, and she hopes that he can see how sincere she is now. "I wanted to say that I feel the same about her. I wanted to tell her that no one had ever done so much for me before, that I care about her and you so much that it's kind of scary sometimes." She reaches out for his hand and is both surprised and relieved when he takes it hesitantly. "This is going to sound crazy, but it feels like I have been waiting a very long time for you and your mother. All I've ever wanted is to have a family-a real family like that-and... somehow, you two seem to make me feel like I do. That night when you both came to dinner, my house had never seemed so bright and warm before, and I never wanted that to end. I still don't." Her eyes are glistening in a quiet plea. "I want to make it up to you and your mother, Henry. I know I broke both your trusts by hurting her, and I want to explain to her why I did it. I just don't know how yet, but I will figure it out. I promise you. I don't intend to give up on her."

Henry looks her over with those skeptical eyes for what feels like hours before his expression finally melts into a smile. "I knew it. I knew you were into her." She smiles back at him gratefully and squeezes his hand tighter. "I knew you liked her-you're just crummy at showing it." Had she not been so ecstatic at having been forgiven by at at least one of the Swans, she might have found that offensive. As it is, though, she is thrilled. "So, now we've just got some damage control on our hands. You need to talk to my mom-like, pronto."

Regina frowns. "I would, but it was a disaster when I tried yesterday at Granny's. She'd rather do just about anything than talk to me."

Henry scrunches his brow thoughtfully before widening his eyes in realization. "No, that's not true! There is one thing that she hates more than anything in the world." He grins widely at Regina's bewildered look. "Her night job." Regina's mouth falls open. "I don't know what it is, but I know that she hates going to it. Like, more than anyone hates their job. If you were to show up while she was there, she'd do anything-even talk to you-to get away from her job."

"Henry, I-I don't know," Regina shakes her head, rubbing her index finger against her chin. "I mean... I don't think it'd be appropriate." He might not be aware of the nature of Emma's second job, but she certainly is. And she still isn't sure how much Emma would appreciate her showing up to Wonderland Nightclub to talk this through. It certainly wouldn't be the most accommodating of settings to have this discussion, but Regina does agree that Emma would be less inclined to refuse her if they were there.

"Ms. Mills," Henry sighs before placing his hand on her shoulder. "Regina." She looks up at the informal address, and he smiles softly at her. "There's never going to be an easy time to do this, and it isn't going to be fun. I'd like to tell you that my mother doesn't hold grudges, but... yeah, she totally does. She's been hurt a lot in the past. She doesn't talk about it a lot, but I know she's never had an easy life. Not when she was a kid. Not when she met my dad." He grimaces at the title. "I mean, she won't tell me much about him, but I know what happened between them wasn't good. She has a thick skin, and she has developed a really strong sense of self-preservation. But, that said, she is forgiving when she cares about someone. Like, really cares about them. And that's how I know she'll forgive you in the end."

She smiles at him, placing her hand over his on her shoulder. "Thank you, Henry. I needed someone to talk some courage into me." Standing, she wraps her arms around him, and he returns the hug. "I promise, I'm going to make this right. Somehow. Whatever that means for Emma and me, even if she doesn't forgive me, I'll tell her how I feel."

"She will," he says certainly. "Ma likes to play the whole bad-ass role, and she's gotten good at it, but she's a total pushover. I could get her to commit murder for me just by sticking my bottom lip out."

"Language, young man," Regina chastises, but she is smiling still. "Now, how about we get out of here? I've got to get home and start planning out my apology."

"I'll help," Henry nods brightly. "Nobody knows my mother like me. With my help, you'll have her eating out the palm of your hand."

The two walk out of the classroom together, Regina with her arm around Henry and he with his head on her shoulder. And for the first time in two days, Regina starts to feel hopeful.

* * *

 _A/N: Henry to the rescue because Regina is the definition of of useless lesbian. This is a shorter chapter, I know, but the next one will be longer. After all, Emma and Regina have a lot to discuss ;)_


	19. Chapter 19

The Wonderland Nightclub bounces with heavy bass while a woman dances on the stage. It is her fourth time on stage-more than most dancers would take on in one night. But this particular dancer is covering for another who doesn't feel up to the task, because this particular dancer made the other's life a whole lost less manageable.

Emma leans against the bar and watches Belle dancing her ass off. The sparkle on her skin is no longer from the glitter spray but from her own perspiration. She's gone hard on stage all night long, and, while she has made a lot of money doing it, she is clearly exhausted as she forces herself to shimmy halfway up the brass pole and slide back down. Emma almost feels sorry for her, but this is their deal. As good as Belle's intentions were at Granny's, she still caused a major scene where Emma works-risking her job there-and made things even worse between her and Regina, a feat Emma didn't even think possible before. After she'd told Regina off, Emma had excused herself to the diner's storage room for a few minutes. Belle had, of course, followed her to check on her. When she'd walk in on the strong blonde-the woman who no one even thought capable of tears-bawling her eyes out, she had cried herself as she hugged Emma and apologized and promised to do whatever it takes to make it up to her. Tonight, she is fulfilling that promise.

Emma doesn't want to be here. She has done a minimal amount of dancing thus far, only working whenever she notices her boss prowling around the corners of the club. She has turned down more private dances than she has given, which is a first for her. She tries to remind herself that she has to be here, that she has to work to keep herself and Henry afloat, but not even the threat of eviction spurs her on now.

Stupid Regina. She's the reason for all this. She is what has gotten Emma so out of sorts. Before her, everything was fine. Emma had everything she needed before Regina. She had her jobs, even though she doesn't like having to work two, and, more importantly, she had Henry. He is all she has ever needed, all she will ever need. He is everything to her. She doesn't need anyone else in her so long as she has Henry.

But, damn it, does she not want someone else. She loves her son, and he is and always will be her first priority. She is a mother before she is anything else. But sometimes being just a mother gets lonely. She's noticed it more and more as Henry has gotten older. When he was little, they were together constantly. He was her best friend, and she was his. And, she knows, that is still true for the most part. They still put each other first over anyone else. But now Henry's older, and he doesn't need his mom for everything. He is making new friends, like Violet and those twins he has recently started hanging out with, Nicolas and Ava. He wants to spend more time out with them than he does with Emma. He is growing up. Emma can see it, and she expected it, but it has still crept up on her. Soon enough, he will be in high school. Then, he'll start driving. One day, because he is brilliant, he will go off to college. With every passing year, Emma finds herself more and more alone. And she's just exhausted from trying to hide how sad that makes her.

She has never met anyone before that she could imagine herself being with indefinitely. She has heard people talk about finding that one special person who makes your heart feel lighter and who makes the rain go away, but she has certainly never come across the person for herself yet. She had thought that maybe... maybe Regina could be that person for her. Once they got to know each other better, of course. They'd only been on one official date yet, and it had been a disaster. But Emma had thought, and a desperately hopeful part of her still thinks, that Regina could be her person. The Cristina Yang to her Meredith Grey, or the other way around more likely. Y'know, but with sex and romance and lovey-dovey stuff. Emma has always wanted to find a person she would spend the night with and stay all through the morning, but all her previous dates were certainly not that. Most were too repulsive to go home with. If she did compromise and spend the night, she was always up before sunrise and out the door. Not because she felt like she had to, but because she wanted to.

Of course, it has been a long time since she has slept over with anyone, and she realizes she could do with a good lay now to get her mind off of Regina fucking Mills. She glances around the club and grimaces to herself at what she finds. Nope. She isn't that desperate yet. Maybe she can go out to a bar on her next night off and find someone at least a little bit desirable.

"Hello there, love."

The deep, accented voice makes her stiffen, and she looks to her right with wide eyes. Killian Jones stands there, leaned against the bar on one bent arm. There is a cocky smile on his lips that make her sick, and his aqua blue eyes are glossy from far too much to drink. The man reeks of liquor and hormones, which Emma knows is never a good combination.

"Killian," she growls, lip curling angrily. "I told you not to come near me again, or I'd report you."

"And I told you the Crocodile won't do anything to me," he says back with a lazy slur.

"Yeah? Well, what about the court system, huh? You rubbing elbows with every judge in this county as well? Because you forced yourself onto me sexually in the parking lot before, and that is, by definition, assault. So, unless you've got an in, I suggest you-"

He grabs her forearm tightly, cutting her words off into a small squeak. Pulling her forward, he breathes against the shell of her ear, and it is hot and rum-soaked. Her nose wrinkles in distaste. "And I suggest you shut up, Swan. I am a reasonable man, you see, but not everyone here is. How about I let all these gentlemen know who you are. How would you like for every client who has ever watched you on that stage know who Emma Swan is?" Pulling back, his lips curl. "Might be a bit dangerous for you, then, wouldn't it?"

"You son of a bitch," Emma snaps. "I am so taking your ass to court now. Get your hands off of me." She jerks out of his grasp and turns to march off, but she is stopped when Gold seemingly materializes in front of her.

"What are you doing?" he demands furiously, backing her into the bar. "I've seen you turn down clients all night, and you've yet to even grace the stage. Have you decided you want to lose your job, dearie?"

She swallows. "I won't dance for him, Mr. Gold. He's handsy. Touchy. He knows my real name. He's broken all the rules."

"And he pays an extra fee for that privilege," Gold answers shortly, and Emma's jaw drops.

"W-What?" she chokes out. "But... But that isn't legal."

"Legality is relative," her boss says dismissively before taking another menacing step towards her. From her other side, Killian is closing in as well. She has no escape between the two. "Now, unless you want to lose this job that I know you need so badly, I suggest you escort Mr. Jones to the Red Room and stay there with him for the rest of the night to make up for all the money you've lost me so far." He smiles nastily before adding, "Dearie."

Again, Killian grabs her arm, but Emma's fingers curl instinctively around the ledges of the bar so he can't force her to a private room. She wants to scream, but she knows that won't do her any good here. She glances behind here where Will is too busy mixing drinks to notice the situation. Belle is off stage, probably in the locker room resting. No one is even looking at them, even though they're right there in front of them. Nobody is going to save her.

But she's been in this situation before, and she'll just do what she always has done: she'll save her damn self.

Emma screws her face up at the two men. "No." Killian frowns angrily while Gold just looks surprised. "You can fire me if you want, but I will not do that. I might be a stripper, but I'm not a fucking prostitute. House rule, remember? No touching. You may think legality is relative, Mr. Gold, but I highly doubt the police would."

The impish man knits his brow. "Are you threatening me, dearie?"

She steps up closer to him, taking as much power from him as she can. "You may be my boss, but you do not scare me. You know as well as I do that if police were prompted to start sniffing around this place-or any of your other so-called 'legitimate' businesses-that the whole place would be shut down in a week." He frowns distastefully, but she knows he can't deny it. "You try to intimidate people into keeping your secrets, Mr. Gold, and it has worked so far. But I'm not like everybody else you know. I don't get scared very easily." Her eyes are dark and stormy as she glowers at him. "You think you're the scariest monster I've ever faced? I was looking into the eyes of much bigger evil than you when I was a little kid."

He pauses, looking her over thoughtfully, and Killian clearly gets concerned over his silence.

"You aren't actually taking her seriously?" he demands, and Gold glances over at him. "She's obviously bluffing! She's just a stupid girl-like all the rest here. She's got no power."

Emma crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow, keeping her sights trained on Gold. That eyeliner-wearing prick beside her doesn't deserve the same air as her much less her attention. "You think so, Mr. Gold? Why don't you just try me, then?"

There are several minutes of contemplative silence where both she and Killian hold their breath for different reasons.

Then, Mr. Gold blinks. "I suppose you could be bluffing, but it's not worth the time or trouble to risk." He looks at Killian. "Mr. Jones, you may see yourself out."

"What?" the dark-haired man bellows. "That's bloody ridiculous, Crocodile! We had a deal!"

"Yes, we _had_ a deal," Gold nods. "A deal which, according to the contract you signed, can be terminated whenever I see fit to do so. Which, I'm afraid, is now."

"Fucking coward," Killian growls. "You're a fucking coward, Crocodile. You're really going to let this little girl tell you what to do?"

"This little girl," Emma says back coolly, and he glares at her, "is much more capable than she looks. I'd think you'd have learned that lesson after our scrap in the parking lot before. I really think you should do as Mr. Gold says."

"I'm not going any fucking where!"

"That's fine as well," Gold shrugs. "We've got some gentlemen on staff who would be more than happy to help you locate the exit." He snaps his fingers, and two enormous, leering bouncers appear on either side of Killian. They grab him by his arms, and he fights against them in vain. "Please, gentlemen, escort Mr. Jones out of my club. And you can add him to the no-entrance list as well."

"Yes, Mr. Gold." They both drag a scratching and clawing Killian towards the door.

"This isn't over!" the man shrieks over his shoulder, staring at Emma with madness in his eyes. "It's not fucking over, you hear me, Swan? You haven't seen the last of me!"

Emma cringes at his strained voice, and the tension does not leave her body until he is gone. She looks to Gold, who is stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"I... Thank you," she mutters to him, and he glances at her. "For listening to me."

The man waves his hand casually. "Mr. Jones was becoming far more of a liability than an asset. He was drinking away more money than he was paying me. It was only a matter of time before I saw fit to end the deal." He clears his throat. "Besides, it's you girls-" he stops himself- "you women who keep this place open. If I don't keep you happy and safe here, I've got nothing." His eyes regain their cold glint just before he turns. "Now, get back to work, Miss Swan. You've been far too complacent this evening, and I won't stand for it any longer."

She watches him go and releases a long breath after he vanishes into the crowd.

"Well, that was weird," she mumbles. Never would she have dreamed that the beastly Mr. Gold would actually help her. Maybe there was more to the codger than she'd given him credit for.

Another hour passes, and Emma feels a little better. She's still upset over Regina, but the incident with Killian and Gold has provided a decent enough distraction. She performs on stage and does a couple more private dances, and she feels herself loosening up and getting back into the groove of things. She thinks maybe she can get over Regina, a feat which had seemed so impossible before. Maybe she won't always be sad over what happened between the two of them. She thinks she might can move on.

At midnight, Gold approaches her and tells her there is a guest waiting for her in the Red Room. She eyes him skeptically, but he assures he it isn't Killian or anyone else of ill-repute. Just a client who has paid for the initial hour in the room as well as a second one upfront. He says they've asked for her specifically and will take no one else. Hesitantly with no small amount of suspicion, Emma approaches the closed curtains uncertainly. Mike the bouncer gives her a small nod to confirm that she should be safe with whomever it is inside, and she takes a breath before opening the curtains and entering the room.

Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops. Standing in the room, pacing from one wall to another, is Regina. Regina Mills. Regina motherfucking Mills.

"Oh my God," Emma says, and Regina looks up at her, freezing in place. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Emma," Regina says breathlessly. "I-I just want to talk."

"So, you bought a private room with me?" she demands. "Couldn't get me to meet with you willingly, so you thought you'd just corner me in here and make me listen to you. Unbelievable. You're just like every other asshole here, aren't you?"

"What? No!" Regina exclaims. "Emma, I-I am not trying to corner you into anything. You don't have to talk to me right now. I only did this so that we could be in private if you wanted to talk to me. You have every right to walk back out if you want to, and I won't stop you." She swallows and shakes her head. "I would never force you to do something you don't want to do."

Emma hesitates, seriously considering walking back out the door, but she knows deep down that she won't. She can't. This woman has and always will have a hold on her like nobody else-except maybe Henry. So, she sighs heavily and crosses her arms. "What do you want to talk about, Regina?"

"I want to explain myself," the brunette says. "Our... Our date, what I said-Emma, it all came out wrong."

"You made it pretty clear how you feel," Emma shakes her head. "And that's fine. You want to be friends. I-I can try to do that, I guess. It will be hard, and it will hurt, but whatever. I'll manage. You don't want to force me into anything, and I don't want to force you. We'll just, um, figure it out."

"Emma." Regina steps closer to her and reaches her hands out slowly. Emma looks at them with a furrowed brow before glancing back up at Regina. One look into those soft brown eyes, and she can't help herself. She takes Regina's hands in hers, and it feels better than she'd imagined to be back in physical contact with the woman. "Have you ever gotten really nervous and really scared? Like, so scared that you can hardly function?" Emma nods. "The other night, when you were saying all those beautiful, wonderful things to me, it was like a dream come true. I've waited my whole life for someone to say exactly what you did, and hearing it was... it overwhelmed me. And then I got really scared that I was going to screw it up somehow." She chews on her lower lip before sighing. "The truth is, I don't have the best history when it comes to relationships. I don't talk about it much, but... I've always been the one to care more than the other. The first person I ever loved-he pretended to care, got what he wanted out of me, and then he left. I was only seventeen, and I was so heartbroken. I let myself believe that I'd never find anyone else. Everything after that, every relationship, has been... empty. Nothing. And I've had to come to the realization that I have never been the love of anyone's life. I thought that would be how it would be for the rest of my life." She smiles at Emma. "But then there you were, being so open and honest about how feel towards me. And I know this is all new and fresh, and I don't want to rush anything, but, Emma, with you I feel like I never have before. I feel safe and warm and happy, and I've never had that. I said that I wanted to be friends because I was afraid of what might happen if I didn't. I was afraid of how much I feel for you, Emma. How much you make me feel. I didn't want to risk the pain, but even when I played it safe, I was still heartbroken. I don't want to play it safe anymore. You're worth the risk."

Emma swallows as warmth prickles the back of her eyes. "W-What are you saying, Regina?"

Regina steps even closer to her, still smiling that radiant smile that makes everything inside Emma turn to mush. "I'm saying that I don't want to be just friends with you, Emma Swan. I want to be with you, to talk to you all the time. I want to go out on dates with you, and I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss you, Emma, and remind you how much you're worth whenever you start to doubt it."

Emma has to force herself to focus because everything Regina is saying is so perfect, and she can feel her breath on her cheek, and, God, her brain is just static. "And Henry? We're a package deal, y'know?"

Regina's smile widen, flashing bright white teeth. "I do understand that, Emma, and I want to be in his life, too, if you'll allow me that honor." She intertwines their fingers. "I know I hurt you before. I wish I could take back what I said, but all I can do now is try to move forward and make this up to you both. I will spend the rest of my life working to gain your trust back, Emma Swan."

"You don't have to," Emma whispers. "If you can promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Never, ever use the word 'friend' around me ever again."

Regina chuckles and nods her head. "Deal. Will you forgive me, Emma?"

"Already have." With that, the blonde lunges forward and captures Regina's lips with hers. Regina gasps in surprise at the move but quickly relaxes into the kiss. And it is more amazing than Emma can fathom. The feeling of Regina's lips, her tongue. She breathes in through her nose, and the woman's spicy perfume infiltrates hers senses. Emma's hands get lost in short, silky locks while Regina's wrap around her waist and rub up and down Emma's bare back. Emma walks them backwards until Regina's legs meet the red leather chair, and she pushes the woman down on it. Regina looks up at her with hungry eyes as Emma towers over her.

"Emma," she whispers. "I don't think we should... Not here."

"No, not here," the blonde agrees, stroking her cheek tenderly. "But I've been holding myself back from this for a very long time. Do you remember when we first met? At the bachelorette party?"

Regina nods her head. "How could I forget?"

"There's something that's been stuck in my head since then," Emma says. "When I was dancing for Kathryn, I saw you, and you..." She grins widely. "Well, you looked like you would've liked nothing more than to shove your friend out of that chair and sit there yourself." Regina swallows. "Is that what you wanted?"

She nods, and her voice comes out hoarse and throaty. "Yes, it is."

Emma smiles at her and places her hands on either arm of the chair while leaning down. "That's what I thought. Do you still want that, Regina?"

The brunette exhales her response. "Yes."

"You've been so patient." Emma nips her lips playfully with a grin. "I'd hate to disappoint now." Standing up straight, she steps back from Regina, who looks thoroughly confused and annoyed by the turn of events. "Don't worry. I'm not going far." She approaches the stereo system in the corner and presses a few buttons before turning back to Regina. As "Na Na" by Trey Songz begins to fill the room, drowning out all the sounds outside, Emma stalks her way slowly back to Regina, who stares at her with wide eyes. There is a small smirk on Emma's face as she toys with the shoulders of her chiffon cover-up, and Regina grins back at her. When the cover is finally pushed off and pools down at her feet. Regina's breath catches at the red lace sparsely covering pale skin. Emma leans over her and moves her hips along to the beat of the song. Regina stares at her, hands hovering uncertainly over her lap.

"It's alright," Emma tells her softly. "You can touch me."

Regina frowns. "But the rule..."

Unable to wait to feel her any longer, Emma takes Regina's hands and places them firmly on her hips. "The rule is for customers. You aren't a customer, Regina." She plants a kiss on her neck tenderly while sliding onto her lap. Blonde curls tumble down around them as Emma pulls back far enough to look into her reverent eyes. "You're so much more than that."

"Emma." Her confidence restored, Regina places one hand behind Emma's neck and pulls her down again. Their lips meet, and it's like the most wonderful kind of suffocation. The kind where you don't want to come up for air. Emma grins down at her and runs her hands slowly up her own torso before her finger hook on the straps of her top. Regina doesn't even blink for fear of missing something as the straps are brought down slowly, painfully slowly, until finally the bra is removed. Brown eyes widen, and Regina audibly gasps.

"Emma," she breathes out. "You're so beautiful."

For the first time in her life, Emma blushes during a dance, freckle-dusted cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink. Regina notices as the flush spreads to her chest and looks up at her with a smile.

"Does it embarrass you when I say that?" she inquires with a raised eyebrow. "You, the essence of self-confidence and assurance?"

Emma shrugs her shoulders. "I'm used to dancing and taking my clothes off, and I'm used to the usual reactions. It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks about me. But you... you matter, Regina."

Regina slides her hands up Emma's waist and cups her breasts, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from the blonde. "You matter, too, Emma. And you're beautiful." Leaning forward with her hands still placed over Emma's breasts, putting delicious pressure on her pert nipples, she kisses her again. "And I'll continue to tell you that over and over again."

"Remember how we agreed we probably shouldn't fuck in here?" Emma gasps, and Regina nods, smiling devilishly at the expletive. "If we plan on keeping our word, we're really going to have to stop now."

Regina nibbles on her neck. "Do you want me to stop, Miss Swan?"

" _God_ , no," Emma shudders, and Regina smirks against her skin. "But... I don't want our first time... to be here." Regina pulls back and looks up at the flushed woman who struggles to catch her breath. "I really want to do this, Regina, but not here. I hate this place, and I don't want to remember our first time and... think of this place."

"I agree," Regina nods. "So, why don't we get out of here then?"

"Please," Emma mumbles. "Before I catch fire."

Regina grins, dropping her hands from Emma's warm breasts and instead palming her barely-covered ass with them. "Judging by the color of your skin right now, darling, I'd say you've already done that."

* * *

 _A/N: So, that was some great talking they did there, wasn't it? ;) Told you guys they'd work it out. Also thought I'd throw in a chance of redemption for Gold, because I honestly do like his character in the show. He's a good villain, but I don't think I want to make him the big bad guy. You can probably already guess who that is. Thanks for all the faithful follows, faves, and reviews-you guys are **amazing.** Let me know what you thought of this chapter. _


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Here, have some fluff to lead up to a big update (I think we all know what, or rather who, is **coming** ). Also, I read some reviews from the last update where people were worried about Killian coming back and harming Emma. Just want to stress that it **will not** happen. While he is going to show back up later on, it won't be in that capacity. Trust me. :)_

* * *

The next day, Regina is visibly brighter. She is much more involved and attentive at work, and she even spares Mary Margaret a smile and nod when she bids her good morning-leaving the woman floored, because that has never in the history of their acquaintance happened. Regina tries not to let her mind wander back to the previous night for fear of losing herself in the perfection of the memory. She slips a few times while teaching but manages to catch herself before falling too far down the rabbit hole. At lunch, however, when she is seated at her desk alone, she allows herself to reminisce on what must be the best night of her life thus far.

 _The two women sweep out of the club, hand-in-hand. Emma has her cover back on and her duffel bag of belongings from the locker room as Regina pulls her towards the black Mercedes parked front-and-center. They both get in, and the car is started._

 _"Wait a minute," Emma says, gripping Regina's hand still, and the brunette's heart drops. Oh, please, don't let her start thinking clearly now. Not when Regina's skin threatens to boil off from her body temperature. "My car. I can't leave it here-I have to take Henry to school tomorrow morning and go to Granny's."_

 _"We'll come back and get it," Regina says resolutely._

 _"What about Henry?" Emma inquires. "I can't leave him home alone all night long."_

 _Regina's breath catches hopefully. "All night long?"_

 _Smiling, Emma turns towards her in the seat. "Yes, Regina. All night long." She reaches across the console, taking her hands which had been firmly planted on the steering wheel. Gently, she brushes her lips across her knuckles and hums. "When I get the honor and privilege of sleeping with you, I want to make it last a very-" She kisses one knuckle- "very-" Another kiss- "very long time."_

 _Regina can hardly breathe after this, much less think, so she exhales to regain herself before nodding. "Yes. You're right. Of course. We... We don't want to be too rash anyway."_

 _"There's no need to rush," Emma agrees. "And, trust me, that isn't easy for me to say. I would love nothing more than to get underneath you right now and put my tongue between your legs." Regina whimpers at the mere thought and clenches her thighs at the flood of warmth that fills her underwear. Emma pulls her back in with another soft kiss to her hand. "I don't want to be thoughtless about this. I mean, you're not just anybody. Not just some person I want to sleep with just for the hell of it. You are someone I don't just want to fuck one night. I want a relationship with you, Regina. I want it all. Everything with you. You are so perfect to me." Regina smiles back at her. "And I want our first time together to be just as perfect. Something that we've both put a lot of care and thought into. Something where I don't have to be home by a certain hour for Henry."_

 _"You're right," Regina nods as much as it may pain her to say. "We shouldn't rush this when we don't have to. " She smiles. "When I get to be with you, Emma, I want to be able to take my time and savor every single part of you. From top to bottom." This time it is Emma's turn to shiver and hinge her thighs together. "Maybe we could have another date soon? Maybe this weekend?"_

 _"I'd love that," Emma nods and glances at the clock on the dash. "Y'know, it's still only one o'clock. There's still a little time to spare." She grins and already has one leg slipping over the console to the driver's seat._

 _Regina chuckles. "Oh, that's right. What exactly do you have in mind to do until then?"_

 _Emma climbs over the console with none of the grace that she displays while dancing and straddles Regina as she had done in the club. Fumbling under her seat for the lever, Regina finally finds it and pushes the seat all the way back to give them both enough space._

 _"I might not be able to put my tongue down there yet," Emma whispers, glancing down towards Regina's lap, "but it works pretty well in other places, too." Ducking down, she kisses Regina, whose hand slip under the chiffon cover to run up her back. When she lightly drags her nails back down, no doubt leaving a trail of faint red marks, Emma gasps and arches forward. Regina grins widely at the reaction she'd been hoping for._

They made out for a solid hour. By the time they had finished, all the windows in the Mercedes were fogged up. Emma had taken another minute to remove her cover and slip her jeans and a T-shirt on over the red lace ensemble before leaving Regina with one last parting kiss. The brunette had watched her cross the parking lot quickly and clamber into her Bug with a savoring smile-the same smile that she woke up with this morning. It might have nearly killed her to let Emma walk away like that, but she knows that is far from the end.

Regina had expected to wake up that morning feeling very... unsatisfied and pent-up, but she was surprised at how loose her limbs felt. She had carried around the tension after her screw-up with Emma so heavily-not to mention the tension of simply wanting to be with blonde ever since first seeing her months ago-that just knowing they were "official" now relieved her of a mountain of stress. And they certainly were official. She didn't know for sure until she found a good morning text on her phone after getting out of the shower from Emma. As soon as she saw the notification on her phone from Emma, she practically lit up and skipped to read the message.

 _Good morning, beautiful! Just wanted to tell you how great last night was and that I'm looking forward to seeing you again soon. Oh, and Henry says hi, too._

Regina hadn't expected Emma to wake up with a completely changed mind about last night, but it was still good to have confirmation. The text was just too adorable with all its emojis, just so very Emma, and a warmth had bloomed in her chest upon reading it. All day long, she'd been texting intermittently with Emma, both of them reading and responding on their work breaks. It was deliciously domestic and the exact type of tooth-rotting sweetness Regina had always hoped to have in a relationship.

Emma Swan makes her really, really good in ways that no one ever has before. They might've not slept together yet, but she can put Regina on cloud nine with a simple text message. Part of this makes her a little afraid-she knows that such intense feelings of happiness can lead to just as intense feelings of loss and loneliness-but Regina chooses not to focus on the things she can't change. She decides to enjoy this. To enjoy Emma and the excitement of this new relationship and all that comes with it.

Which, she finds, includes Henry.

"So," the boy walks up to Regina's desk after the dismissal bell with a big, knowing grin, "you and my mom, huh?"

Regina's cheeks flush as she furrows her brow and feigns confusion. "What about us?"

He leans his palms on the desk and wiggles his eyebrows-and that looks a _scary_ amount like his mother. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." Her mouth opens uncertainly. Just how much did Emma tell him about what happened between them anyway? "She said you guys talked through all your crap, and now you're officially dating."

She lets out an inaudible sigh of relief. "Oh, yes, we did. I've got you to thank for that."

"Yeah, I know," he nods. "I also happen to know that you guys did a whole lot more than just talk." Regina's eyes widen, and he laughs. "I was awake when she got home. There was lipstick on her neck still."

"Oh," Regina exhales uncomfortably. "So, um, how do you... feel about that?"

"About you making out with my mom? I mean, it's gross because she's my mom, and you're my teacher, but I kind of wanted this to happen all along." Regina raises an eyebrow at him quizzically. "The moment I met you, I knew you and Ma would be perfect for each other. That's why I always talked about you to her and her to you. After you guys met, it was just a matter of waiting for you two to figure it out." He sighs exasperatedly. "And, boy, did you guys take your sweet time doing it."

Regina's jaw is on the floor as she sputters out a response. "You knew this whole time?"

"Knew that you guys had the hots for each other? Yeah. It was pretty obvious. I think we all knew."

"Who's _we_?"

"First, it was just me. Then, I told Ruby. Then, Violet. Ruby and Granny were running bets for how long it'd take you guys to get together. Granny said a month. Ruby said three." He giggles. "Man, she's going to be so mad when she hears about this."

"Running bets?" Regina shakes her head. "I can't believe this entire town is so privy to my private life."

"Well, you and Ma were never really good at hiding it," Henry shrugs. "Anytime you two were together, everyone could tell how much you liked each other. You'd have to blind and deaf to miss it."

"Oh," she mutters with a frown. "How lovely that everyone seemed to know before I did."

Henry grins at her. "Don't feel so bad about it. If it helps, Ma was just as slow to coming around to it as you." She can't help but smile back at him. "Speaking of, I'm going to Granny's to see her right now-want to come? I'm sure she'll be super happy to see you."

Regina rests her chin in her hands, smiling softly. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

His eyes glitter back at her. "She always is."

Since she has no after school responsibilities that day, and all her grading can be handled later at home, Regina decides to leave with Henry. She drives them in her car, and he chatters about Violet and schoolwork and soccer.

"You haven't had any issues with Roland or the other bullies for quite some time now," Regina notes as they park in front of the diner.

"Yeah, I think getting busted before really scared them," he says. "They still like to poke fun at me sometimes, but it's nothing major, and I come right back at them. Honestly, it's kind of a weird game now where we try to one-up each other with insults and comebacks. I'm in the lead so far." He grins. "Roland's not too good with words."

Regina smirks, exiting the car. "Well, I'm happy you've worked things out. While I can't approve this verbal war, it's better than actual fighting."

He waves a hand nonchalantly. "Eh, it's not big deal. Nothing we ever say is taken to heart, and it's not super cutting. We know what subjects to stay away from. It's mostly for fun, and we end up laughing about it afterward. Like an episode of Wild 'n' Out." Regina gives him a clueless look, and he shrugs. "It's a show about celebrities roasting each other-Ma and I watch it sometimes. That's not important. What's important is I've gone longer than I have in years without getting into any kind of fights."

"And I'm very proud of you for it," Regina beams at him, throwing an arm around his shoulder and squeezing. "I knew you had it in you."

They step inside the diner together.

"Hey there, Henry, Regina," Ruby greets them with a big smile. Judging by the reception, they both know that the waitress doesn't yet know of Emma and Regina's relationship. "Fancy seeing you two here. Let me guess? You'll both have your usuals?"

"Sure," Henry nods as he and Regina walk to the front counter to sit together on the stools. "Where's Ma?"

"Dish-washing duty," Ruby answers, nodding her head towards the kitchen. "She should be done soon, though. She's been at it for a while now." She chuckles. "I'm sure she'll be in a great mood for you guys when she comes out of there. Emma just _loves_ washing dishes."

"Alright, I've had enough! From now on, we're using paper plates and utensils!" The shout that is clearly Emma's comes through the kitchen window, and all three smirk.

"Quit complaining," Granny barks back without an ounce of sympathy. "It's not so hard."

"There were like six thousand spoons in there," Emma grumbles, moving towards the door out of the kitchen. "Do you know how annoying it is to wash a spoon? _They_ wash _you_ back!"

"Well, that's why I pay you the big bucks, girl."

Emma pushes open the door and steps into the front of the diner, wiping her hands on her pants and scowling. Regina can't help but grin at the sight of her. Her hair is down and disheveled as it falls down her shoulders, and the front of her black turtleneck sweater is slightly damp. On her forehead, unbeknownst to her, is a stripe of bubbles from the sink.

When Emma catches sight of Regina and Henry sitting at the bar, her expression brightens immediately.

"Hey, guys," she says as she rushes to them with a smile. "I didn't expect you both her." She tussles Henry's hair. "Hey, kid. Good day at school?"

He smiles back at her. "Yeah, Ma."

She faces Regina, still smiling as a playful flicker fills her eyes. "And hey to you as well. Good to see you again."

"You, too," Regina nods. "Rough day?"

"What makes you say that?" Reaching out with a smirk, Regina wipes off the bubbles from Emma's forehead with her finger and shows it to her. Emma frowns, cheeks warming. "Oh. Well, that's embarrassing."

"Actually, it's rather cute," Regina assures her, leaning forward. Henry is preoccupied with a book and some hot cocoa that Ruby delivered to him. "Almost as cute as finding out I'd left lipstick on your neck last night."

Emma's eyes widen. "What? He told you?"

"Of course he did," Regina says. "You find that surprising?"

"Well, no, I just..." She sighs. "It wasn't actually lipstick." Regina's brow knits in confusion, and Emma glances around to make sure no one is watching before pulling down the neck of her sweater. Regina's mouth opens at a large splotch of purple and red covering the pale skin of Emma's throat. "I didn't know it was there until Henry said something about it. I passed it off as lipstick because that felt a little inappropriate. I tried covering with makeup, but it's pretty stubborn."

"A hickey?" Regina hisses. "I can't believe it. I'm never given anyone a hickey in my life." Her initial reaction is a swell of pride, but then she looks at Emma. "I, um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Emma smiles back at her. "That's okay. It happens sometimes." She chews on her lower lip. "And I won't lie: having you mark me like this-it's pretty hot." Regina grins back at her as Emma begins to cover the mark back up.

She isn't quite fast enough, though.

"Oh my _God!_ " Ruby bounds up to Emma with a wide-eyed grin before practically ripping the neck of the sweater back down. "Emma Swan, that is a bona fide hickey on your neck!"

"Will you keep it down?" Emma snaps at her, glancing back at Henry, who thankfully has put headphones in his ears as he reads. "Jesus Christ, Ruby. Do you have any concept whatsoever of privacy?"

"Nope," the brunette says gleefully. "So, spill, sis. Who bruised you up like a cantaloupe? Did you and Belle decide to start getting down after all?" She says it jokingly, but Regina can't help but react.

She snorts distastefully. "I should think _not_."

Then, Ruby looks between the two of them, and the puzzle pieces click in her brain. "You. You two..." She pauses, looking giddy initially before her face falls. "Shit! I knew it would happen but not this soon!" She glares at Regina. "You couldn't have waited another month? I'm out fifty bucks because of this!"

"I'll make sure to take it out of your paycheck at the end of the week," Granny chides from the kitchen, and Ruby scoffs.

"Seriously, I'm glad you two got your shit together and all," she says to Emma and Regina as she skulks off to tend to a customer, "but you're killing me here."

Emma laughs, rolling her sweater back up. "Sorry to have inconvenienced you, Rubes." She faces a smiling Regina. "So, now they all know, huh?"

"It appears so," Regina nods.

"So, that means I can do this?" Leaning across the counter, Emma kisses Regina's lips tenderly and delicately. They hold themselves back from indulging too much, reminding themselves they are in a public place.

When she pulls back, Regina is grinning from ear-to-ear. "Yes, dear, you can do that. As often as possible."

Straightening back up, Emma licks her lips a moment before blinking out of her trance. "So, we should make plans for this weekend, right? Are you free Friday night?"

"For you? Of course. I do have one stipulation, though."

"What's that?"

"I make the plans this time," Regina says. "You planned our last date, and it was wonderful. Well, before I messed it up." Emma chuckles. "You went to so much trouble to organize the perfect date, and I want to do the same for you."

"Are you going to sweep me off my feet, Ms. Mills?" Emma inquires teasingly.

Regina smiles back at her, eyes darkening a shade. "That... among other things."

Emma's cheeks turn that gorgeous shade of pink that Regina loves seeing on her so much, and the desire pooling in green eyes is evident. "Well, in that case, I'll see if Henry's up for a sleepover at Ava and Nicolas's house."

"That sounds like a good plan," Regina agrees. "How about I pick you up at seven?"

Emma swallows, and the sight of her throat contracting makes something in Regina's gut tighten. "Seven sounds amazing."

"Excellent, darling." Leaning forward, Regina grins at her. "It's a date."

"It is so a date," Emma nods emphatically. "God, now this week is going to just _drag_ by. Saturday might as well be years away."

Regina smiles. "It will get here soon enough, I promise. In the meantime..." She kisses Emma, and, while it is still closed-mouth, it is still a considerably longer kiss. Regina is surprised at herself-she would never normally engage in such public displays of affection. But with Emma, she just can't seem to help herself.

"Gross!" Ruby calls at them. "Take your cuteness somewhere else!"

Emma pulls back, laughing. "Don't mind her-she's just mad because she worked up the balls yet to ask out the girl she likes."

"I heard that, Swan!" Ruby shouts back dramatically. "You know I'm sensitive about my lack of balls."

"We'll find 'em one of these days, Rubes," Emma says back to her before looking back at Regina, who grins at her. "As much as it pains me to say, I really do need to get back to work before Granny decides I'm expendable. I get a break in fifteen minutes, though. I could sit with you and the kid."

"I'd like that very much," Regina nods, and Emma smiles.

"Good." She leans in for another quick peck on her lips before swooping back to work. "See you in fifteen minutes!"

Regina smiles after, watching her make her rounds, and she feels lighter than ever before just being in the same room with the blonde. She immediately begins to make plans in her head for their date this Friday. It had to be perfect. Emma deserves that and so much more.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Smut warning, and this time it is exactly what you think. ;)_

* * *

Today has been what Emma can only classify as a day from hell. She woke up this morning with a debilitating migraine that she had to down pills to get rid of, and they took most of the day to actually start working. Work was a pain in the ass. She only had some of the worst customers of her life to tend to, and she was in no mood with the pounding of her head for their shit. Her shift-no longer than any of her others-felt like it lasted days rather than hours.

After school, Henry stopped in with Ava and Nicolas Tillman to see her for a bit, but the three of them left to go to the Tillman household an hour later. The twins' father, Michael, was apparently home from work and ordering pizzas for the sleepover as they spoke. Emma saw Henry off with a hug and an "I love you." He grinned at her and told her the same and to have a good time tonight with her girlfriend. That word alone lifted her spirits considerably.

So, now, Emma has just clocked out for the day and is starting out to her car. It's only four o'clock, so she has plenty of time to go home, shower, and change for her date with Regina. She honestly cannot wait. The suspense and uncertainty of the coming date has been weighing on her all day, and she is an excited, nervous mess now. She only hopes she can pull herself together when the time comes for Regina to actually pick her up.

However, as Emma unlocks her car, she is distracted from her thoughts of Regina by a a peculiar sight she catches in the parking lot across the street. The blacktop is packed with cars-so much so that not many would notice the hooded figure prowling between cars pulling experimentally on door handles here and there. But Emma notices. She knows that technique. He's checking for any vehicles left accidentally open. Wishful thinking. Judging by the awkward way he is walking, though, she knows he has a slim jim just waiting to be used.

She considers simply calling the police and going on about her day, but she knows she can't do that. By the time the cops got there, this guy would've already stolen a car and spun out of there. Probably out of town completely. Emma knows this game, and she knows that you don't waste time in the middle of grand theft auto. She knows what she's got to do.

Pocketing her car keys, she makes a loop around the streets towards the parking lot and creeps up behind the guy. He stands in front of an older model sports car, and Emma notices him glancing from left to right-but not behind him, the idiot-before reaching to loosen his belt a bit. Ah, so he's a speed demon. Probably just some stupid kid wanting to go for a joyride. Still, Emma can't just let him jack someone's car. He'd probably wreck the damn thing and kill himself in the process.

As he pulls a straightened-out coat hangar up from the leg of his pants, Emma comes closer behind him. He slides the hooked end of the hangar between the window and the weather stripping and begins to wiggle it furiously in every direction. Emma struggles to stifle a laugh. Clearly, this guy has no clue what he is doing.

She is just about to bust him when, suddenly, the window he is scratching against shatters from the pressure, and the alarm goes off with a loud shriek, and they are both startled by it. The guy jumps back in surprise, and when he does, he spots Emma behind him. His eyes widen, and he takes off running. Well, kid or not, she can't let him get away now. Not now that he's damaged the vehicle.

"Shit," she mutters, and, though she really doesn't want to, she sprints after him. He's pretty face with long legs, but he is tall and gangly. His clumsiness slows him down, and Emma is able to catch up to him. Once she is close enough, she lunges out and tackles him onto the ground. They both roll a few feet into the road, where cars slam on their brakes and blow their horns at them.

"Jesus Christ," the guy breathes, and Emma gets a good look at his face now that his hood has fallen. As she suspected, he is really just a kid, probably eighteen with shaggy red hair and wide, shocked brown eyes. He has freckles and a thin, wispy excuse for a mustache on his lip. Something in those eyes, the panic or the shock or the fear, reminds Emma a whole lot of herself at that age. "What are you? Some kind of super-human freak?"

"Nope," she sighs. "Just a concerned citizen." She fumbles in her back pocket before retrieving her phone. "Now, shut up while I call the cops."

The Sheriff answers her call and assures her he will be on the scene as soon as possible and asks her to keep the perpetrator subdued until he gets there. There isn't much need for that as the kid sits beside her on the sidewalk with his head in his hands, looking very much like a dejected child.

"I think I can handle him," she smirks. "See you soon." She hangs up the phone and looks at him. "Hey. You want to tell me why you're trying to steal cars?"

"Not really," he says back shortly.

She chuckles. "Hey, kid. Don't play tough guy with me. I already know you're not a hardened criminal." He glances over at her. "When you're jimmying a car door, you always turn the hook in towards the interior of the car and pull up. That's where the lock is."

He groans, shaking his head. "I can't believe I broke that window. My parents are going to kill me."

"Probably not," she shrugs. "Broken window on a car that old won't set you back too much. Couple hundred bucks, and it's replaced. With how young you are, the Sheriff will probably just slap you with some community service. Shouldn't end up on your record."

He eyes her. "How do you know so much about it?"

She grins back at him. "Hey, you aren't the only one who has fucked up a time or two. That's also how I know you didn't just do this on some weird whim. Good kids don't do this kind of stuff for no reason. So, what's the deal?"

He sighs. "It was just a stupid bet with some guys from school. I was supposed to steal a car and ride around in it for a few hours. Then, I would drop it off somewhere in town. No harm done. But, obviously, it didn't go according to plan."

"It rarely does, kid."

He side-eyes her. "Why do you keep calling me kid? You're not even that much older than me."

"I'm a good ten years older than you, and I'm a mom," she nudges him. "That means I have the right to call anybody younger than me kid, smart-ass." He smiles. "I also have the right to tell you to stop doing dumb shit like this. Take it from someone who has been where you are and didn't get out of it so easy-it isn't worth it. Whoever you're trying to impress, they aren't worth getting busted and going to jail for. I mean, you're what-eighteen?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen. Well, you've got a year before you'd be tried as an adult. Right now, you'll get a slap on the wrist. You keep this shit up, though, and you'll be looking at time. And that doesn't come off your record. So, don't be a fucking idiot. Got me?"

He nods his head. "Yeah. I got you."

"Good. What's your name anyway?"

"Steven."

"Well, Steven, I'm Emma." She snorts at herself. "God, I sound like I'm off an episode of Scared Straight, don't I?" They both laugh at that, and they are still laughing when the Sheriff's cruiser pulls up in front of them. A tall man exits the car, one hand running through his wavy brown hair. Somber blue eyes settle on Emma and Steven, and he furrows his brow at the two.

"Well, I've answered a lot of strange calls in my career," he notes as he approaches them, "but I think this might be the weirdest." He looks at Emma. "You must be Miss Swan?"

"Please do not call me that," she says as she and Steven stand. "It's just Emma." They shake hands.

"Sheriff Graham Humbert," he says back in a thick, Irish lilt. He looks at Steven with hard eyes. "So, this must be our car thief?"

"Attempted car thief," Emma corrects. "The car's right over there. Alarm's still going off. All he managed to do was bust the window out. Shouldn't cost too much to repair."

Graham nods dutifully. "I can let him off with community service since this is his first offense."

"And his last, too," Emma throws in and elbows Steven's bony figure. "Right?"

"Yes ma'am," he assures her. "Last one, I promise."

Graham smirks between the two of them. "Well, you two got close quick, didn't you?" He gestures towards the passenger's seat of the cruiser. Go ahead, kid. I might be able to let you off easy, but we'll still have to go to the station and fill out some paperwork. Not to mention call your parents."

He groans. "Shit."

"Hey, language," Emma scolds. "You asked for this, remember? Now, do what he says and get your ass in that car."

He smirks back at her, though he still looks a little sick at the prospect at facing his parents. "Okay. Um... Thanks, Emma. For catching me."

She winks back at him. "It was a pleasure. Let's just make sure I never have to do it again."

He gets into the passenger's seat of the police cruiser and closes his eyes while letting his head fall against the dash.

"Well, I've certainly never had a perp thank me for apprehending them," Graham says with a grin. "What's your secret?"

She shrugs. "I'm just naturally so wonderful that people can't help but adore me." He laughs, and she smiles. "I just talked some sense into him. He's a dumb kid who made a mistake trying to impress someone. It hasn't been that long ago I was in his same position. I just told him to shape up, or his parents would be the least of his worries in a few years. All I told him is what I hope someone would tell my kid if he ever gets in that situation. No big deal."

"Still, it's impressive," Graham says. "Just catching him is quite the accomplishment for a civilian." There is a glimmer in his eyes that she can't quite place. "You have any background in police work?"

She laughs out loud at the notion. "Not even slightly. I was a bounty hunter back in Boston for several years. Same principle really. Find bad guys, catch bad guys, put bad guys in jail. Except they never gave me a fancy badge." She nods to the bright and shining sheriff's badge pinned to Graham's chest.

"They make me wear it," he says with a slight blush, and she grins. He recovers quickly, though, and that glimmer returns to his eyes. "Bounty hunter, huh? That is pretty similar to, say, what an overwhelmed Sheriff's deputy would do?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"Look, I know this isn't exactly the most professional way to offer you a job, but I'm desperate," he sighs. "Truth is, I'm by myself at the station, and, while Storybrooke doesn't have a whole lot of crime, I could still use some help. To be honest, there isn't a whole lot of active field work to it. It's mostly paperwork. But it's good money with benefits and fair hours. You said before you've got a son? You'd be off work every day by five. Plenty of time to spend with him. What do you say?"

She flounders in shock. Out of all the things she expected him to say, this certainly isn't one. "Uh, well, I mean... I'd have to think about it."

"Sure," he nods. "Of course. I understand completely. Take a few days to think it over and then get back to me." He smiles while heading to the cruiser. "Looking forward to hearing from you, Emma." She watches in awe as he gets into the cruiser and drives off.

"Well, shit," she mumbles before shaking herself out of the surprise and jogging back to her car.

The ordeal has set her back almost an hour, so she rushes through her shower and quickly fixes her hair. She shimmies into a tight, black leather dress with no sleeves-because she loves how Regina admires her biceps-and curls her hair. She isn't really paying attention to the time until there is a knock at her door while she is applying her mascara.

"Coming!" she calls while quickly finishing up her makeup. She runs barefoot to the door and takes a minute to calm herself down before opening it. Regina stands there looking absolutely perfect in a dark teal dress with a zipper split up the front that shows off a glorious expanse of bare thigh, black heels, and a black leather jacket. Emma's greeting immediately dies in her throat to a gulp as she gawks at her. Regina allows her to stare uninterrupted, and when Emma's eyes trail back up to her face, she smiles.

"Hello, dear," Regina greets in a voice that is practically a purr.

"H-Hi," Emma says back. "I, um, I just have to... shoes and coat." She shakes her head at herself in annoyance while Regina smirks. "Come on in. I'll be ready in a second."

"Take your time." Regina enters the apartment, looking it over curiously. Emma suddenly finds herself feeling insecure. This certainly is nothing like Regina's home.

"Excuse the mess," she says quickly, glancing over to the sofa where the throw pillows have been knocked off and the blanket is wadded up in the center. "Henry and I did game night in here last night, and we must've forgotten to pick. I know it's cramped and cluttered, but-"

"Emma," Regina stops her evenly, and the blonde looks up from where she had been fighting with the buckle on her ankle boots. Regina smiles at her warmly. "You have a lovely home. Very inviting and quaint. I think it's perfect."

Emma smiles back at her, standing up straighter and relaxing for the first time today. "Thanks. You look amazing by the way. Don't know if you could tell that by the stuttering mess I became upon seeing you."

"I did notice," Regina says. "You look beautiful as well. Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoy you in leather?"

Emma grins widely at her. "Well, what a charmer you are, Ms. Mills. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get into my pants tonight."

"Well, you can't blame a woman for trying."

Shrugging her coat on, Emma closes the distance between them. "Well, lucky for you, I'm in just the mood." She kisses her tenderly, drawing a smile from the brunette. "I'm ready."

"Good." Regina follows Emma out of the apartment and waits while she locks the door. When Emma turns around, Regina offers her hand with a sweet smile. Emma accepts it, and their fingers intertwine as they walk down the stairwell. Both are grinning from ear-to-ear when they emerge from the building into the cold of the evening.

Regina drives them to a five-star Italian restaurant in town, and Emma can't help but gawk at the elegant decor around them as they are seated at a table. Obviously, this place isn't cheap.

"I hope you like Italian," Regina says, a bit concerned. "I didn't know what your favorite is-I just thought after you enjoyed my lasagna so much at dinner that night, you might like all Italian."

Emma smiles. "To be fair, I loved your lasagna because you made it, and you're the world's greatest chef apparently." Regina blushes, smiling to herself. "But I am wild about Italian. So, good call."

"Good," Regina nods. "I considered simply cooking for us... but we've actually been out like this in public before, and I thought maybe it was time."

Reaching across the table, Emma squeezes her hand. "I agree. I'm glad we're out like this. I'd like for everyone to see us together so they know the foxy Regina Mills is off the market."

Regina chuckles. "I highly doubt you'll have to worry about anyone threatening our relationship, dear. Nobody has ever shown much interest before."

"Well, as glad as I am to hear it, I find that hard to believe." Emma takes a sip of the wine the waiter had poured out for them. "You must've just not noticed it before. Because there is no way someone can look like you do and not gain attention. I mean, the first time I saw you, I was floored by how beautiful you are."

"Really?" Regina smirks. "I thought that maybe you thought I was insane for how I was looking at you. I knew it was rude to stare, but I just couldn't make myself look away."

Emma shrugs. "Actually, it was the look in your eyes that had me so... aroused."

Regina sputters her wine. "D-Do you mean attracted?"

Emma grins devilishly. "Nope." She takes a sip of her wine, enjoying the red shade that Regina's chest has turned.

"Oh, my," the brunette sighs. "I'm not sure if I'll make it through dinner."

"You're going to have to," Emma teases. "I must be wined and dined before I give anything away." She feigns offense. "Just what kind of girl do you take me for?"

Regina grins, laughing softly. "You are something else, dear, but you certainly aren't a girl to me."

Their salads arrive, and they order their entrees.

"So, how was your day?" Emma asks casually, stirring her dressing into the salad.

"Long," Regina answers honestly. "I don't know if Henry told you, but I was a bit distracted all day long. I started class reading out of the wrong book."

Emma laughs. "And what exactly had you so distracted?"

Regina smiles. "Not what. Who." Emma blushes slightly at this, dropping her chin. "And how was your day?"

"Long as well. I was the least chipper waitress on the planet today." Regina grins. "It's one of those days where I was sincerely glad I didn't have to go to work at the club tonight because I don't think I could handle it."

At the mention of her second job, Regina clears her throat and frowns, suddenly appearing uncomfortable. Emma furrows her brow. "Yes, well, actually I'm glad that you brought that place up. I just... I wanted to talk to you about it, but I'm not sure how to put it."

Emma's faces relaxes, remaining neutral as she straightens her back out. "You don't want me to work there anymore."

Regina chews on her bottom lip. "I-I don't care for it, no. But I won't force you to do anything, Emma. I would never try to control that way. I just... Now that we're dating, the idea of you going there, of those people leering at you, saying those things, touching you." Her expression darkens as she grips her fork tightly. "I just don't like it."

Emma watches her a moment. From anyone else, she would consider this to be far too controlling behavior. She wouldn't stand for it, and she would probably walk out of that restaurant now if it were anyone else. But it isn't. This is Regina, and she knows Regina. She knows this isn't coming from a bad place. She knows that this is coming from Regina's care for her, for her protectiveness of her. And that makes her feel really, really good inside.

"Okay," Emma says at last, and Regina looks at her in surprise. "I'll quit. I've been looking for an excuse to leave that job anyway."

"Really?" Regina says. "Just like that."

Emma nods. "Uh-huh."

"Oh, well, that's wonderful," the brunette smiles. "So, will you try to get Granny to hire you full-time? Because I can probably get you a job at the school. Something in the office maybe. Or a gym teacher-you'd be good at that."

"Thanks, but I've actually already got an offer," Emma smiles, and Regina frowns at her inquiringly. "So, there was a little more to my day than I let on. I may or may not have stopped an attempted car thief."

Regina's eyes widen. "Come again?"

Emma tells her the story of Steven and Graham, and, by the time she finishes, Regina is gaping at her. "So, yeah. Graham offered me the deputy position on the spot, and I told him I'd need some time to think it over. But now... well, it just seems to have worked out perfectly. I think I'll call him tomorrow."

"Well, that's wonderful," Regina says. "I cannot believe that happened. And you never told me that you were a bounty hunter in Boston."

She smirks. "Well, it isn't the most reputable job around. I don't exactly go around bragging about it. I did it for years, though, and I was good at it. That was my day job back in Boston. Nights were, well, you know." She clasps her hands under the chin. "I can't believe I won't have to do that anymore. I mean, I've been working two jobs since Henry was born. Twelve years. To not have to do that anymore... God, it's going to be amazing. I'll have so much more time for him." She smiles. "And you."

"And yourself as well," Regina nods. "I'm so happy for you, Emma. And proud, too. You've worked so hard so long for Henry. You deserve this."

The two finish dinner and leave the restaurant together. They get into Regina's car, and then they sit there for a moment, the engine humming beneath them.

"So... I thought we could go back to my place," Regina says uncertainly. "It was only a thought, though. If you'd rather go to yours, that's fine. And... if you'd rather I just take you home and call it a night, I understand that as well."

Turning towards her, Emma grins widely. She leans over the console and whispers in her ear, "Regina?"

"Hm?" the brunette says in a broken voice.

Emma presses her lips to the shell of her ear lightly. "Take me to your house, please."

Regina barely makes a sound before she is throwing the car into reverse and pulling out onto the main road. "Thank God." Emma smiles, settling back into her seat.

They arrive at Regina's house in record time, and they're both giggling as Regina unlocks the door. Neither of them drank a lot at the restaurant, but between the wine and the excitement of the night, they both feel rather heady then.

As Regina closes the door, Emma turns towards her. They stare at each other a minute before Regina steps closer.

"Let me get your coat," she says, and Emma allows her to remove the coat. Regina takes care hanging it and her own in the closet. "Would you like a drink? I'd be glad to get you something. If you're hungry, I have-"

"Regina." Emma stops her by taking her hands and pulling her closer. "The only I want to eat right now is you." The brunette shivers before placing her hands on either side of Emma's face and moving closer. They are both slow, their hands exploring each other curiously. Emma's fingers tiptoe up and down Regina's waist while Regina's cascade through her hair softly. Their eyes never leave each other, though, and when Regina's lips brush against Emma's, the blonde releases a shaky sigh.

"Regina," she breathes, eyes closing as the throbbing between her legs that she has felt all night long intensifies. "Please."

And that does it. Regina closes the distance between them and kisses her passionately. Emma melts into the contact, and her knees weaken when Regina's tongue slips inside her mouth. A muffled moan escapes her lips, and Regina pulls back a moment so they can both breathe.

"Upstairs," she says. "My room. Now."

"Lead the way," Emma nods. With their hands intertwined still, Regina guides her up the stairs to the last door on the right. Pushing it open, she lets Emma inside the bedroom, and the blonde looks around curiously. It's nice. Really nice. Expensive-looking, but it's still inviting. A wonderful reflection of its owner.

"Emma?" She blinks and looks up to find Regina standing beside the bed. "Are you okay?"

Emma smiles. "Yes. I am. Better than okay." She moves forward and scoops Regina's hands in hers. "I am so better than okay." Regina grins as Emma kisses her, and her hands skim along Emma's back before stopping at the top of her zipper. She grips the zipper and looks to Emma for permission. When the blonde merely smiles and takes hold of Regina's own zipper at the side of her dress, they both pull down. The dresses fall simultaneously to the ground, and they both look over each other.

Regina smiles. "I will never understand how you've had a child with that body."

Emma, however, cannot speak at the moment. She can only stare. Because Regina may have already seen her mostly bare body, but Emma has certainly never seen Regina so exposed before. And it is enough to take her breath away. She absorbs the smooth olive skin and lovely curves, the perfect breasts encased in black lace.

"Emma?" Regina whispers, and green eyes look up at her smile. "Are you still with me?"

"Uh-huh," Emma nods. "I just... You're so beautiful."

"Thank you, dear," Regina says and combs Emma's hair back delicately. "But I'm no more beautiful than you."

Grinning as some of her confidence returns, Emma scoops her up in her arms before they both tumble onto the bed together. Regina laughs as Emma crawls over her, blonde curls tickling her skin. "Beg to differ there, your Majesty."

Regina knits her brow. "Your Majesty?"

"Yeah, because I get the feeling you are such a pillow princess," Emma jokes.

Regina rolls her eyes before correcting her. "Pillow queen, darling."

Emma grins before leaning down and kissing her. Her lips wandered down her jawline and neck, and she peppers kisses on Regina's collarbone as she unclasps Regina's bra. When the garment is removed, she takes her time massaging Regina's breasts tenderly, enjoying every breathy moan and sigh that it brings out of the woman under her.

"Emma," she exhales before reaching around and undoing her bra as well. It is tossed aside, and Regina palms her breasts. "Oh, God, Emma."

Leaning down, Emma replaces one of her hands with her mouth, swirling her tongue around Regina's nipple. This elicits sharp cries of pleasure from the brunette, all of which send a bolt of heat to Emma's core. She maintains this control over the situation until Regina's hand slips down her torso and cups her pounding sex. She gasps, immediately arching into the contact.

"Oh, Emma," Regina whispers, and the blonde looks up at her. "You're soaked." She begins to move her fingers over Emma's dripping panties, and Emma throws her head back. When Regina pulls her underwear down, Emma kicks them off quickly and allows Regina to lay her on her back. Lying on top of her, Regina brings one of her hardened nipples into her mouth while rubbing her swollen clit.

"Oh my _God_ ," Emma gasps, clinging to Regina and writhing under her. "Oh, God, Regina. Please, don't stop. Please, Regina. Please." She never gets out exactly what she is pleading for, but Regina doesn't need her to. She knows, and that is why she hesitates only a few more seconds before sinking two fingers inside of Emma. Emma jumps before pushing back against those fingers, grinding and riding them. "Yes! Regina, God, yes!" Regina watches her with reverent eyes, enjoying the strained look on Emma's reddened face and all the beautiful sounds she made. When she adds a third finger without preamble, Emma looks as though she might die as she wails out her name. Sliding back up her body, Regina kisses Emma before letting her lips wander to her along her jaw.

"I'm going to come, Regina," Emma huffs. "God, I'm going to come. I-" When Regina's tongue licks the space behind Emma's ear, the blonde gasps before her body begins to tremble uncontrollably. "Oh, God! Regina!" Her hands claw at Regina's back, and she knows it must be painful for her. If it is, though, Regina doesn't let on as she continues to suck behind Emma's ear, and the blonde wonders if she knows that is her spot. _The_ spot.

When Emma finally comes down from her high, she collapses into the bed, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. Regina settles on her side, removing her fingers slowly, and looks her over carefully.

"Emma?" she asks hesitantly.

Without opening her eyes, Emma holds up a finger. "Gimme a sec." Regina chuckles, and Emma pries her eyes open. "God, that was amazing."

"I agree," Regina nods. "So... behind the ear, huh?" She smiles.

"Oh, yeah," Emma says, her cheeks warming again. "I don't know why it does, but it's always turned me on, y'know?"

"I didn't know, but I'm very glad that I do now."

Feeling her energy returning to her, Emma rolls on her side and grins at the brunette. "Yeah? Well, how about you? Do you have any special spots I should know about?"

Regina smiles. "Yes, but I won't tell you about them. You'll have to figure it out for yourself."

Emma crawls on top of her. "Good thing I've got all night to find out, huh?" She punctuates the question with a nip to Regina's lips, and the brunette giggles.

And it is a really, really good night.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: This almost didn't get on here today because I didn't know what I wanted to do with this chapter entirely. I figured it out, though, and what you've got here is some smut with a shit-ton of fluff. Loved reading all your reviews to the previous chapters-keep 'em coming! I'm all about affirmation. This story is such fun to write, and I've enjoyed the concept so much. :)_

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Regina is awakened the next morning by warm lips pressing lightly over the expanse of her bare chest. With a low hum and a smile, her eyes open slowly, and she looks down. There, with her head lying against her shoulder, is Emma Swan, kissing her skin so sweetly over and over again. Regina decides in that moment that this is how she wants to wake up every morning.

"Well," she sighs, and Emma looks up at her with those brilliant green eyes. "This is by far the best wake-up call I've ever received."

"Really?" Emma grins back. "Well, you're going to love what else I've got planned." Extending her neck, she kisses Regina's lips delicately. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Regina whispers back and smiles when Emma works her way lower, pressing kisses to Regina's jaw, neck, and collarbone. She runs her tongue between her breasts in a way that has Regina squirming a bit and circles her navel knowingly. This draws a sharp breath from Regina, and Emma chuckles lightly. After some exploration the previous night, she had pinpointed Regina's most sensitive spot: her lower stomach. Specifically, her abdomen. Since finding it, she had taken great joy in laboring over the area, drawing out immeasurable pleasure from the brunette. After kissing, licking, and sucking at her abdomen, Emma flashes a mischievous grin before disappearing under the sheets. Regina cannot see her when she kisses the inside of both her thighs gently, and she jumps when she feels her breath against her cunt. A feeling of warm wetness overcomes her as Emma draws her tongue up her slit, and something between a moan and a whimper passes over her lips.

She lifts the sheets, throwing them backward, and Emma looks up at her inquiringly.

"As sexy as it is to not know what is coming next," Regina exhales, "it is so much sexier to watch you go down on me."

Emma grins again. It makes her eyes sparkle, and the dimples Regina has found herself a slave to appear. "I happen to know exactly what is coming next. Or rather, _who_." She wets her finger in her mouth before running it up Regina's lips, barely flicking over her clit, and she almost screams at the teasing amount of pressure.

"God, Emma," Regina gasps, throwing her head back into her pillow. "Please..."

"Whatever you say," Emma says before throwing her a wink, "your Majesty."

Before Regina can respond, that tongue is working on her again. Emma sucks on her labia, curling her tongue around the now pulsing flesh and roaming everywhere but where Regina really needs her.

"Stop teasing," she hisses between her teeth, already writhing in a mixture of both frustration and dull pleasure.

"You don't seem to mind it too much," Emma says, but her two fingers find their way to Regina's clit and rub it leisurely. Regina's toes curl at the slow ministrations, and she fists the sheets. "But that is a much more desirable reaction." Emma kisses her center lovingly, and the emotion of it alone makes Regina's heart quicken. Sex with Emma is so much more than just physical, so much more than anything she has ever experienced before. Maybe it is because they are already so connected in so many ways, or maybe it is how both women show themselves uncharacteristically open in the process, but Regina feels that, for both of them, this is so much more than just sex. "Would you like to see if I can get you off with just my mouth, Regina? I'm told I have a very skilled tongue."

Something like a groan winds itself out of the back of Regina's throat. "You do."

Though her eyes are closed, Regina can feel Emma's smile against her pussy, and she aches for her. "Glad you think so. So." Her tongue darts out to trace Regina's opening, and the brunette jolts as if she has been hit with a thousand watts of energy. "What do you say? Just the mouth?"

Honestly, at this point, Regina could care less. She just wants, needs _something_ from Emma. She is a twisting, panting mess under the blonde, and she requires some sort of relief before she explodes. So, she nods emphatically. "Yes, Emma. Please, please."

And suddenly, she feels so very much. Emma's tongue dips inside of her for a brief moment, eliciting a sharp cry, before spreading flat against her clit. Then, Emma sucks on her clit with a kind of fervor that Regina cannot even comprehend at the moment, and her hand finds its way to the back of Emma's head, pushing her closer and deeper. Her fingers tangle in blonde curls as she undulates against Emma's face. When teeth graze her clit, Regina shivers and shrieks. Abruptly, her clit is left throbbing while Emma buries her tongue inside Regina as deep as possible and curls it. At the angle she moves her head, Emma's nose rubs intermittently against her clit, sending pulses through the brunette's body. She isn't sure how Emma is making her feel so much with just her mouth, but she also doesn't really care as she howls. Since her hands are not allowed below, Emma slides them up Regina's torso and pinches her nipples with each one, adding a whole new sensation to the brunette. Within minutes, her walls clench around that warm presence. With a gush of wetness, Regina comes. Her body shakes, and her fingers somehow tighten in Emma's hair as she moans and sighs from the pleasure.

Emma doesn't stop until Regina's fingers finally loosen, the brunette falling limp beneath her. Drawing back, she sits up on her heels with a mile-wide grin on her face. Regina takes in the glimmering eyes, spread lips, and pearly glaze smeared on her lips and chin, and she swears she could come again just at the sight.

"What?" Regina asks in a hoarse voice.

"You're a screamer," Emma says resolutely, "and a squirter."

Regina blushes. "Am I? I mean, I've never... done it before."

"You are," Emma nods matter-of-factly, licking her lips. "You definitely are."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

Emma stops her with a firm kiss, and when Regina tastes herself on and in her mouth, she melts. Pulling back a few inches, Emma's smile is softer.

"Don't apologize," she whispers. "It's not a bad thing."

"It isn't?"

"No. It's a really, really hot thing, and I'm glad that I was able to show you just how unbelievably sexy you are." With a sigh, Emma lays back down beside Regina, her head falling on her shoulder. Smiling warmly, Regina wraps her arms around her tenderly.

"You think I'm sexy, do you?" she questions.

"Only the sexiest person I've ever seen," Emma smirks, dropping another kiss on her shoulder.

"Really?" she muses, and Emma looks up at her. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"You're joking?" Emma asks, and her jaw drops when Regina shakes her head. "C'mon, there is no way. I mean, you'd have to be blind not to see all this sex appeal. You're, hands down, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Regina, and I'm not just saying that to fluff your ego. I mean it. And you're so smart, which is so sexy. You're... well, sometimes you're pretty bossy, but I like that." Regina chuckles. "You're great with kids, which, for a single mom, is a major turn-on. And then there is your voice."

"My voice?" Regina repeats with a smirk. "What about my voice?"

Emma looks at her with serious eyes. "It makes my ovaries want to implode with sex hormones." Whether it is the statement itself or the deadpan manner in which it is delivered, it draws long peels of bubbly laughter from Regina, which in turn have Emma laughing as well.

"You do have a way with words, dear," Regina says, shaking her head and wiping at the corners of her eyes that have grown wet from laughing so hard.

"Yeah, I've heard that before," the blonde smirks. "Although I'm afraid you're not really going to like what I have to say next." Regina furrows her brow, and Emma smiles with too much innocence to be considered anything other than guilty. "I have to go."

"What?" Regina groans in a way that is so unlike herself, but she can't bring herself to care that much. "Why?"

"I have work." Emma's tone suggests separating is as unpleasant for her as it is for Regina. Which is, at least, a little relieving to the brunette. "My shift starts at ten. Plus, Henry will probably be home soon, and I'd like to be there when he is. He has a tendency to get creative in the kitchen when he's home alone for too long." Regina arches an eyebrow questioningly. "I ate the gummy bear ice cream sandwiches when he was little because it was cute. Now, he thinks I actually like them, and I haven't got the heart to tell him otherwise."

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad on principle," Regina shrugs. "I mean, I'd never eat it, but a lot of people like gummy bears in their ice cream."

"Yeah, and I'm one of them," Emma says, "but I don't like for either of those things to be smacked between two pieces of toasted white bread."

Regina's eyes widen. "He puts it on toast? Why?"

"I don't know," Emma shakes her head, "and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask." Regina chuckles as the blonde shimmies her way out of bed, standing up naked and stretching. And as much as she loathes the thought of either of them leaving that bed, Regina must admit that the view is quite nice.

Glancing back at her, Emma grins. "Perv."

"You do bring it out of me, dear," Regina says, continuing to stare unabashedly at Emma's bare ass. "I think you should call into work. Text Henry. Tell him he can come here if he'd like." Her eyes glitter as Emma faces her, breasts pushed together as she stretches her arms over her head. "In an hour or so, I mean."

Emma smirks. "As much as I'd love to spend my day here with you and him, I can't. I mean, I'm already going to have to give Granny my notice as it is. Y'know, since I'm going to be the new deputy at the Sheriff's office now." She leans over the bed again, grinning at Regina as she draws closer and closer. "I don't think she'd appreciate me laying out my last two weeks so I can stick around here and fuck you silly."

"Well, _I'd_ certainly appreciate it." With that, Regina wraps her arms around Emma's waist and pulls her down on top of her. Emma giggles before their lips meet, and they both fall so easily into the contact. Like they were made to do just this. Forever.

"Regina." Emma says against her lips, and Regina tries kissing her harder to distract her. It works for about five minutes where Emma's lips move against hers in synchronicity, tongues meeting each other in strokes. But then the concept of time rears its ugly head again, and Emma tries again. "I have to go." She pries her lips away, and Regina pouts in a way that she hopes will make Emma stay. And the blonde looks as though she might for a moment, her shoulders melting down as she exhales heavily. She blinks, though, and shakes herself out of the trance. "Hey. Stop with the cute hypnosis thing. I don't want to go, but I have to. I'll call you when I'm on break, okay?"

"Is that supposed to be a compromise?" Regina raises her brow. "Because trading you in person, naked in my bed, for a phone call is a pretty terrible deal."

Emma sighs. "Maybe, but it's the best I can do right now." She kisses Regina again and is careful not to let it go too far before pulling back. "I've got to find my clothes." She scans the room and laughs as she tracks her underwear and dress down from every corner. Her bra was apparently thrown away in their excitement last night and had landed draped over the lamp. "Quite eager, weren't we?"

"Still are, if you'd let me," Regina responds, crossing her arms begrudgingly.

Emma smirks as she pulls her dress back on. "Don't tell me you're going to be mad at me over this?" Regina only sniffs, tilting her chin up, and Emma groans while moping back to her. "Don't be like that. I want to stay, Gina, I really do. But I-"

Regina looks back at her, wide-eyed and alert. "What did you say?" Emma knits her brow uncertainly. "You called me Gina."

At that, the blonde's cheeks turn pink. "Oh, I did, didn't I? It's just this cute little nickname I've been calling you in my head. I didn't mean to actually say it out loud."

"Why not?"

Emma smiles at her as if that should be obvious. "Well, you just don't strike me as the type of person who appreciates cute little nicknames."

"No one has ever called me anything other than Regina before," the brunette says thoughtfully before smiling back at Emma. "Say it again."

Emma grins widely. "Gina." She looks her still-naked form over in the bed. "God, it is unfair just how sexy you still are this early in the morning." Leaning her arms on the mattress, she kisses her again. "Mm. You taste so damn good."

Regina nips at her bottom lip playfully and smiles. "If you'd stay, you'd get to taste a whole lot more."

"You make this so hard," Emma sighs.

"Tiring you out already?" Regina asks as a challenge.

Emma winks at her. "No way. I wouldn't have it any other way." She leans in as if going for another kiss but diverts her course at the last minute to planet a firm but short kiss on Regina's nose. "Bye! I'll talk to you later!" She flees from the bedroom before Regina can reel her back in and make her late for work.

Regina huffs in a serious attempt to be annoyed, but her anger is superficial. More than anything, she just feels disappointed. She is finding that, when it comes to Emma and Henry anyway, she is greedy. She can't get enough of either of them, and she'd be content to spend every day of the rest of her life with them.

There are certainly worse ways to wake up in the morning, and she imagines she could never have another bad day if she were greeting it with Emma by her side.

She hears Emma plod downstairs, tripping over her own feet as she hobbles in unzipped boots, before breezing out the door and closing it behind her. Standing, she wraps up in a robe and peers out the window. She can see the woman in question shaking out her mangled curls as she makes her way towards a yellow Volkswagen Beetle that is not parked there. Regina smirks as Emma freezes and looks around, taking far too long to remember that Regina had driven them the night before. Regina pulls out her cell phone and sends her a text.

 _Forgot something, didn't you?_

Emma pulls out her phone at the text and reads it before looking up at Regina with an apologetic smile. She shrugs playfully before replying.

 _Yep. I haven't done the whole spending the night routine in a while now. Forgot how all this works. Could you maybe be sweet enough to give me a ride back to my place? I'd be eternally grateful._

Regina reads the message with a raised eyebrow before catching Emma's smile that suggests all the dirty things going on in her mind. She stops a shiver at the aspect before replying.

 _I suppose I could think of a few ways you could make it up to me. Let me get dressed, and I'll be right down._

A few minutes later, Regina exits her house wearing a pair of long, yoga leggings and a long-sleeved tee under a zip-up track jacket. She locks the front door before turning back around. She is met with Emma's wide-eyed gawk.

"What?" she asks, feeling a bit self-conscious. It is the first time Emma has ever seen her dressed down before, and she worries that it has soiled the blonde's image of her. She didn't have time to put on any makeup and did little more than run her fingers through her hair. "I didn't want to keep you waiting and make you late, so I had to put on the first thing I could find."

"Thank God that's the first thing you found, then," Emma says. "Seriously, I don't know why you don't wear that every day. You in leggings is... It's perfect, Gina."

Regina smiles, confidence restored. "Well, I'm certainly glad you appreciate it. Now, quit gaping. Let's go before I change my mind and send you back to my bedroom."

"Bossy," Emma chimes as they open the doors to the black Mercedes, and Regina quirks an eyebrow at her over the top of it. Emma grins. "I love it."

Regina tries to prolong the ride to Emma's as long as she can, trying for once to catch every red light she can. Emma is very obviously aware of her ploy but doesn't tell her to hurry. Both women want to spend as much time together as they can. When Regina's free hand comes to rest on the gear shift, Emma reaches over and takes it in her own discreetly. Regina looks down at their intertwined fingers before glancing over at Emma, who just looks ahead as if she'd done nothing at all, and she smiles to herself. They've grown so beautifully domestic and comfortable so quickly, so naturally, and Regina can't get enough of that feeling. The one she had believed before that she'd never find.

When they reach the apartment, both exit the car and stroll around it to meet each other. Again, their hands come naturally together, as if magnetized specifically for each other, and Regina smiles as a breeze has Emma's curls dancing in its current.

"Well, I guess there's no more stalling now," the blonde sighs regretfully. "The dinner and last night and this morning were all the most amazing of my life. Thank you, Regina, for making it all happen."

"Thank you for giving me the chance," Regina says back, squeezing her hands affectionately.

"Well, there was never really a question of that," Emma smiles. "It's kind of impossible for me to stay angry at you. You're just so..." Words seem to fail her before she shakes her head. "You're just so you, and that is so much more than anything I ever thought I could have."

Regina leans forward and rests her forehead against Emma's. "You have made me happier than I imagined I could be, Emma Swan, and I cannot wait to see you again. For now, I am going to force myself to walk away and not make you late for work." Emma smiles, and Regina kisses her. "Goodbye."

"Bye, Gina," Emma says back, walking backwards towards her apartment building. "I will call you on break, I promise!" With that, she spins around and sprints inside the complex, knowing she only has an hour or so to get ready for her shift.

Regina lingers outside a few minutes, one hand pressed to her lips. The other is still hovering out where Emma's slipped out of her grasp, holding only air. Already, she feels the absence in her chest, a twisting and curling like a serrated blade. God, she's got it bad, hasn't she?

"Oh. My. God."

Regina turns her head, her smile immediately gone, and is dismayed to find her sister standing a few feet down the street. Zelena stares at her with wide eyes and a shit-eating grin that tells Regina she saw and heard everything. Even so, Regina tries to retain some semblance of dignity as she tugs the hem of her jacket down briskly and solidifies her stern expression.

She clears her throat. "Can I help you?"

"You naughty girl, you," Zelena taunts, and Regina clenches her jaw tight. "You finally fucked the stripper, did you?"

"Don't talk about her that way," the brunette snaps back, even though she knows good and well that Zelena does not say it in a judgmental way. That is just the way her sister talks: crudely.

"Of course not, _Gina_ ," the redhead cackles. "God, this is just too precious. She's already given you a nickname and got you taking her back home from a long night of shagging? She must've been even better in bed than we thought she'd be."

"We?" Regina repeats. "As in you, too?"

"Of course," Zelena shrugs as she strides up to Regina casually. "I'm not blind, Regina. I saw the same thing you did at the bachelorette party, and I've got a very vivid imagination." Her eyes somehow brighten even more. "Oh, God. I cannot wait to tell Kathryn about this. She's going to love it." She loops her arm in Regina's, walking her towards the parked, still-running car. "So, why don't you take me back to your house and make me breakfast while scandalizing me with tales of what you and our pretty little Emma got into last night?"

"I'll make you breakfast, but we are _not_ talking about that," Regina says firmly.

"Why not? It's not like it's nothing I don't already know."

"It's private, Zelena. I refuse to discuss mine and Emma's sex life with you."

Zelena grins at her. "Sex life? So, you did fuck last night? I knew it. That's all the details I need-I can figure the rest out." She taps her forehead. "Vivid imagination, remember?"

Regina sighs resignedly and wonders what she did in a past life to be plagued with a sister like this. Whatever it was, the punishment does _not_ fit the crime. "You are so severely disturbed."

"Proudly so, sis. Now, come on. I wants eggs while I imagine yours and Emma's night of debauchery."

Releasing her arm, Zelena prances to the passenger's seat of the Mercedes and lowers herself into it primly as if she owns. Shaking her head, Regina starts to the driver's side. As her hand grips the door handle, she looks back up at the apartment building, counting the windows before coming to Emma's. She smiles to herself, already looking forward to that phone call later on.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: This chapter took a while to get right, and I have to apologize for the brief hiatus. There are some heavy topics here, and I wanted to make sure I got them right. I also wanted to kind of balance out the heavy with the fluffy and the funny, so it wouldn't be quite so dark. Trigger warning ahead for non-con-but not present day and not described graphically. It's only referred to and not out-rightly so._

* * *

Surprisingly enough, both of Emma's bosses take the news of her leaving well. While she hadn't expected Granny to be angry or unreasonable, she had expected the worst from Mr. Gold. However, when she turns in her two-week notice, he only looks down at it, sucks on his teeth, and lifts his eyes back up to her.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to find someone just as good to replace you now," he sighs heavily, turning the envelope over in his hands. There is something like a smile-or the closest he can get to it-playing on his lips. "Don't have a sister, do you?"

Emma furrows her brow, smirking slightly. "Wait. Was... Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?"

His face is hard as stone again. "Of course not, Miss Swan."

"No, I'm eighty percent certain that was a joke," she shakes her head and grins. "All this time I've worked for you, I've never seen you so much as chuckle, and you decided to unveil your humor to me after I tell you I'm leaving. Unfair, dude."

He blinks. "Don't call me dude, dearie, or I'll be force to fire you before you quit."

Granny had only smiled at her and said she planned to get as much work out of her for the next two weeks as she could.

She starts her job at the Sheriff's station initially on a part-time basis, working a couple shifts a week, mostly in the evenings. This allows her to introduce herself not only to the job itself but her new boss, who she very quickly realizes she likes. He is a cool guy, Graham, and the two of them seem to have a lot in common. Both have spent most of their lives as loners, distancing themselves from others for the most part. Both grew up without parents, and, as it turns out, both are big fans of donuts.

Her first full day of work after the two-week trial period, Emma walks into the Sheriff's station at eight o'clock to the smell of coffee and sugary, deep-fried goodness.

"Oh, man," she smiles widely at the waiting box from Granny's and to-go cup of coffee waiting for her on her desk. "Graham, you're the best."

Graham's head pokes out of the open door of his own office, a chocolate-covered donut in hand and some sprinkles caught in the short stubble of his beard.

"Me?" he says with a frown. "I thought you had them delivered?" Emma frowns at him while picking up a bearclaw from the box. "Ruby brought them in early this morning."

"I didn't do it," she shrugs. "Did Ruby give any indicators?"

"Nope. Just said they were special delivery."

"Hm. Well, I'm not going to shun them either way." She bites into the donut and smiles to herself. "So, what's on the agenda first, boss-man?"

He walks out to her desk and drops a heavy stack of files on top with an apologetic smile. "The reports from that big bump-up downtown yesterday."

"Ugh," Emma groans, dropping into her chair that squeaks and rolls a few feet under the abrupt weight. "You reeled me in with the fun trial period. Now that you're my one and only boss, you're going to actually make me do work."

"Sorry, Deputy," he smiles. "Drink the coffee, eat the donuts, and fill out the reports, please. Once you're done with these, you can head out and patrol."

"I _can_?" she says with fake excitement. "Gee, thanks, boss. Maybe later you'll let me check all the parking meters in town."

He grins. "I can tell that I'm really going to enjoy working with your sarcasm."

Emma spends the first couple hours of the morning filling out reports and kills another two out on patrol-which, as is typically the case in Storybrooke, uneventful. She stops by Granny's and grabs lunch for herself and Graham where she bugs Ruby about whoever sent them the donuts while she waits for her food-which is fruitless. Finally, at almost one o'clock, she makes it back to the department.

She kicks the front door open, both arms weighed down with bags of takeout boxes.

"Hey, boss-man!" she calls , shaking her hair out of her face. "I got lunch, and I hope you like grilled cheese because I didn't know what you order so I just got you my usual!"

She looks up as she walks in and stops short at what she sees. Regina sits perched on her desk, legs crossed and hands clasped primly over her knees. As if she often sets up camp on people's desks.

"Well, look who showed up," she smiles widely.

Emma furrows her brow. "Uh, yeah. Hi. What, um... Not to sound like a jerk, but what are you doing on my desk?"

"That's a fine way to address someone who gave you such a thoughtful gift," the brunette says and glances over at the over half-empty donut box beside her. "I see you enjoyed the pastries."

"You sent those?" Emma asks. "I've been trying to figure it out for hours. I grilled Ruby hardcore earlier, but she wouldn't budge."

"I swore her to secrecy," Regina says, her smile growing brighter with every step Emma takes closer to her. "I thought you might like something nice for your first official day as deputy."

"Well, aren't you the sweetest?" Emma grins and wraps her arms around her waist. "Thank you, Gina. That was so great of you. Man. Didn't take you very long to figure out the way to my heart is through my stomach, huh?"

"Well, you are usually with food every time I see you," Regina teases. "But I do love a woman with an appetite."

"Awesome, because I have two grilled cheese sandwiches here," Emma said.

"I'd be happy to eat them with you."

"What? I just thought you wanted to watch me eat these two sandwiches all on my own. You want food-you go get your own." Emma laughs, and Regina nudges her arm while they both sit down at the desk to eat. "Okay, okay. I'll let you have one. Did you, like, not do work today or something?"

"Did I not do work today?" Regina repeats with a smirk, and Emma rolls her eyes. "Yes, I did work. I am still doing work. I just left at lunch to see how your day has been."

"Pretty good," she shrugs. "I mean, it's been pretty relaxed. I did a bunch of paperwork earlier. Just finished patrolling. I don't know where Graham is right now. Went out to lunch, I guess. How's your day been?"

"Good. My classes have been fairly uninspired thus far, so I'm hoping Henry blows me away with all his insight at final period."

"Well, he ate his Wheaties this morning, so he should be sharp as a tack." Emma swallows a big gulp of her Coke. "Not really, that's a lie. We don't have Wheaties in our home. They're disgusting. He ate Lucky Charms. So, here's hoping the lunch ladies are more responsible than me and fed him something actually nutritious."

"You're ridiculous," Regina laughs, and her hand rests on Emma's knee. "I've missed you."

"Gina, babe, we saw each other, like, not even a full twenty-four hours ago." This earns the blonde a raised eyebrow and frown. "I mean, I'm just saying... I missed you, too. I always miss you. Even if we're only apart for, like, ten minutes. I miss you like crazy."

Grinning, Regina leans closer to her. "That's more like it." She kisses Emma's lips passionately, drawing out the contact and massaging both of her kneecaps. Emma extends her neck and leans forward into the kiss, nearly tipping her chair to close the distance between them.

"How long do you think Graham will be out for?" she asks, and Regina gives her a questioning look. "I was just thinking... y'know, if he's gone for the next hour or so... there's an interrogation room in the hall, and I've got handcuffs now." She smiles innocently. "We could totally have some fun."

"Is that all you think about?" Regina inquires, though she is smiling as well.

"When I'm around you? Yes, absolutely. I see you, and my libido just spikes through the roof."

"Mhm. Glad I have that affect on you, darling."

"So, what do you say we take this somewhere more-"

"Emma."

She groans, dropping her head when Regina leans back from her. "Perfect timing, boss-man." She and Regina stand to look at Graham, who enters with a a takeout box of his own. "Graham, this is my girlfriend, Regina Mills. Gina, this is my boss, Graham Humbert."

"Yeah, I think we've met a few times in the past," Graham nods to her with a smile. "Pleasure to formally meet you, Regina. Emma's told me a lot about you."

"She has?" Regina looks at Emma with a sly smile, and the blonde blushes in response.

"Oh, yeah. She's always talking about how fantastic her girlfriend is. She couldn't be anymore smitten with you."

"Wow, Graham," Emma says, rubbing the back of her neck. "That's not at all embarrassing. You want to show her some naked baby pictures while we're at it?"

"Well, if I had some, I most certainly would," he grins. "Again, good to meet you, Regina. I'll give you two some privacy so I can acquaint myself more personally with this meatball sub." He nods to them before going into his office and shutting the door behind him.

"He's a motormouth, huh?" Emma chuckles awkwardly. "You shouldn't listen to a word he says, though. Guy's a pathological liar."

"The Sheriff is a pathological liar?" Regina smirks. "Well, I suppose Storybrooke has a lot to worry about, don't we?" Her chin rests on her clasped hands. "So, you're smitten with me?"

"Well, I mean, that's a weird way to put it. I'd say, like, I really, really like you. Which, y'know, you already know, so there's no need to make a big deal out of it. But I don't know if smitten is the word. Maybe, like, I'm super into you. Maybe I adore you. I don't know, but I wouldn't say smitten. That's just-it's just weird."

"You adore me, then?" Regina's smirk widens into a full-on grin, setting all of her teeth on display. Emma's cheeks somehow turn a darker shade of red. "That's good to know."

"Yeah, but, like, don't get all crazy on me now, okay? Don't think just because I'm nuts for you, you can just snap your fingers, and I'm at your beck and call. Y'know, Emma Swan doesn't work that way."

"Nuts for me?"

"Well, like, what I meant was... Like, do I really love being around you? Yeah, obviously. You buy me donuts. Do I think you're super hot? Totally. Anyone with eyes does. And, like, do I love talking to you and learning more about you all the time? Yes. It's all I ever want to do anymore. Do I think about you a lot? All the time. Does your smile brighten my entire day? I look forward to seeing it all the time, yeah." She frowns, stopping herself. "I forgot my point a while ago. I'm just listing off facts now. What was I saying?"

"You were saying that you aren't smitten with me," Regina grins, "and doing a very poor job of convincing me of it."

Emma sighs heavily. "Alright... so, yeah. Maybe I'm kind of, sort of smitten with you." She shrugs. "Y'know, I might even go so far as to say I might, y'know, love you." Regina gasps in surprise at the words. She knows how Emma is, and she knows that isn't something the woman says lightly. When Emma says she loves someone, she means it. "If that's something you would be interested in hearing. Like, if you're not okay with it, just throw it out the window. Like it never happened. But if you are..."

"Emma," she says and cups the blonde face lovingly. "Emma, darling, I love you."

The blonde smiles, her entire face lighting up. "Oh, thank God. I totally didn't mean to say that today, but I've felt like this for a while now. It just kind of... came out."

"Well, I'm very glad it did," Regina smiles, running her thumb over Emma's cheekbone tenderly. "I've wanted to say the same to you for quite some time as well." Leaning in, she kisses Emma's lips sweetly and tenderly.

"Hm, wanna come over for dinner tonight?" Emma asks when they part. "You could watch me try to help Henry with his geometry homework-it's really funny for bystanders. We could have dinner and maybe watch a movie together before he has to go to bed. And then, while he's in bed, we could, y'know, hang out. In my bedroom. With the door locked." She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, and Regina laughs.

"I'd love that, Emma," Regina nods. "I love nothing more than spending time with you and Henry."

"Good," Emma nods. "Because we really like spending time with you, too." She leans back in her chair and finally takes a bite of her sandwich. Regina tears off a small corner of the other sandwich and chews on it. Emma watches her face carefully with a smile. In terms of food, Regina never really approves of anything Emma consumes. However, on the few times she has gotten the brunette to eat something other gourmet health foods, Emma has noticed how much Regina secretly loves it. When she swallows the small piece of bread, butter, and melted cheese, her eyes roll back slightly before closing, and a small smile curls the corners of her lips. Emma grins to herself and delves back into her own sandwich.

At the end of her lunch hour, Regina leaves Emma with a long kiss that neither really want to end. Emma watches her leave before Graham snaps his fingers in front of entranced face and drops some more paperwork on her desk. Grumbling about a surplus of paper cuts and indentured servitude, Emma begins to fill them all out begrudgingly.

The day ends both slowly and quickly. On the one hand, Emma really does enjoy her new job, so it passes fairly quickly. On the other, she is going to spend tonight with her two favorite people in the entire world, so time seems to drag on until she can see her son and girlfriend.

Henry shows up at the station after school and spends the last hour of Emma's shift playing with the nightstick that she has been issued for reasons she can't quite fathom. Not like anyone in Storybrooke ever needs a good night-sticking that she's seen. If they actually do have to arrest someone, the perpetrators are always compliant for the most part. She glances up from her paperwork every few minutes and smirks at Henry as he throws the stick at the dart board on the wall, trying for the bulls eye.

Emma finishes the paperwork early, and it is Graham's turn to take the evening patrol, so she and Henry exit the station at four-thirty.

"Regina's coming over for dinner tonight," Emma tells him, arm slung around his shoulder as they walk down the street for home. "I was thinking of making that garlic-roasted chicken thing for her. With the asparagus and mashed potatoes."

"You mean the only thing you can cook?" he teases, and she swats the back of his head playfully.

"Not the only thing I can cook," she corrects. "The only thing I can cook well." He chuckles. "I just realized earlier that she and I have been going out for a couple of months now, and I've yet to cook for her."

"Got to show her that your marriage material," Henry nods.

"Whoa, kid," she laughs. "Slow down there. Like I said, she and I have been dating for two months now- _barely_. A little early to be thinking along those lines, don't you think?"

He shrugs. "Eh. Not really. I mean, you guys are pretty much made for each other, and you're both so much happier now that you're together than you ever were apart. Makes sense to me."

"Yeah, but, Henry, marriage is a big deal. It takes time to think about."

"Why? I know you, Ma. You'll just end up over-thinking it and psyching yourself out. You make better decisions when you don't think at all."

"You've obviously forgotten the motorcycle incident of '09." She cringes at the memory. "Sometimes, my left foot still goes numb after that."

"Okay, so sometimes you could've stood to have thought more," he says. "But you and Regina-it just makes sense, Ma."

"So... you'd be okay with something like that? I know you like Regina and I together, but we have been moving along at a pretty steady pace right now. I'm not talking marriage, but things are only going to get more serious between us. Like, maybe one day we'll move in together. You're alright with that?"

"Of course," he nods. "I love you, and I love Regina. You know that. And I love when she comes over. It's fun to watch how fast she stops kissing you when I walk into the room." Emma rolls her eyes, nudging him. "Seriously, though. You don't have to worry about me in that department. As far as I'm concerned, she's already part of the family. I've always wanted two parents. Didn't think it'd be two moms, but, to be honest, that seems a lot cooler than a mom and a dad. I mean, mom's are the best, right?"

"Damn right," Emma nods.

He smiles. "I know you guys don't want to rush things, but if not knowing how I would react was keeping you back from getting more serious, don't sweat it, Ma. I'm all for it, whatever it is. Moving in together, getting married, or just staying the way we are now. I like it. Although, I think it would be awesome for you guys to move in together already. Especially if we'd be moving into Regina's house. I mean, that place is awesome, and I call the room at the end of the hall. Gonna make it my man cave."

"Nice to see you've already got the blueprints laid out in your head, kid," Emma chuckles. "I don't think we're going to be moving in just yet, even though, I'll admit, it would be awesome. There's no need to rush it, and it's healthy to take a relationship at an even pace. It's important, actually."

"Yeah, but... you guys are made for each other. I just want you to be happy."

She smiles, pulling him closer. "I get it, kid. I do, and I agree. It's just that I don't know if Regina or myself are ready for that kind of a leap. We like the way things are right now. We're comfortable. And, you're not really old enough to know yet, but a relationship has stages, and each stage should be given its own amount of time. We're enjoying just dating right now. You'll understand when you get your first girlfriend." His ears turn bright red, and he looks at the ground with wide eyes. "Hang on a minute." She stops, turning him to face her. "You've already got your first girlfriend, haven't you?" He swallows. "Heck yeah, kid! It's Violet, isn't it? You guys are too cute together."

"Actually, Ma," he says in a quiet voice. "It, um, it's not Violet. I mean, we did have kind of a thing for a minute-she held my hand in the hallway, but it's not her."

"Who then?" Emma asks with a furrowed brow. "Ava?"

"Not Ava," he mutters before finally making eye-contact with her. And he looks scared. Really scared. "It's, um... It's Nicolas."

She stares at him a moment, eyes growing wide. "Nicolas. Oh, I get it now."

He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah. So, is that... I mean, are you okay with that?"

"Kid," she smiles at him warmly, "why would you think I wouldn't be okay with that? I am dating a woman, and, most importantly, I'm your mother. Of course, I'm okay with that. I'm more than okay with that. I'm happy for you."

He wraps his arms around her, burying his head in her shoulder. "Thanks, Ma. You're the best."

"Yeah, I know," she says, and the two continue walking towards home. "So, Nicolas, huh?"

"Ma," he groans. "You were really cool before-don't ruin it now."

"I'm not ruining it. I'm just curious. How serious are we talking here? Like, just holding hands and googly eyes? Or have you two love birds locked lips yet?"

"Gross, Ma! Stop! I don't want to talk about that with you!"

She laughs, squeezing him closer. "Yeah, I know you don't. But, I just want you to know that if you ever do want or need to talk about it, I'm here, and I'm more than willing to listen and dole out advice. Got me?"

He nods. "Yeah, I got you."

"Awesome. Because I could give you some kick-ass advice, kid. Your mom is the best kisser ever-just ask Regina."

"Ma, I don't want to hear that!" His cheeks turn red, and she laughs maniacally before planting a kiss to his temple.

When they get home, Emma begins cooking, thawing chicken breasts and oiling pans. Henry does his homework in his bedroom-though Emma suspects he is probably just texting Nicolas. From a Bluetooth speaker on the counter, her phone plays out music, which she nods her head and dances along to.

"I wanna be your Joey Ramone," she sings aloud, rocking on her heels and banging her head. "Pictures of me on your bedroom door. Invite you back after the show. I'm the queen of rock 'n' roll." She spins around in her sock and freezes finds Regina standing in the living room, hands on her hips and signature smirk in place

"Gina," Emma says, pushing her hair back out of her face. "Jesus, you scared the hell out of me." She smiles sheepishly. "Enjoy the show, did you?"

"Very much so, yes." Walking to her, Regina wraps her arms around Emma's waist and pins her against the counter with a predatory grin that makes Emma's insides go soft. "You know what your dancing does to me." Emma smiles, but then Regina freezes, her face falling. She sniffs a couple of times before finally looking at the oven. "Are you cooking?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Emma says proudly. "Herb-roasted chicken with asparagus and garlic mashed potatoes."

"It smells fantastic," Regina says, unable to conceal her surprise. "I didn't know you cooked."

"Well, I mean, I've had to keep Henry and myself alive," Emma chuckles. "It's not financially possible to order out dinner every night. I had to learn a few tricks. This one is my best by far, though. And healthy, too, you'll be happy to know. Well, not really the potatoes. I put cheese in them. And on the chicken, too. But the asparagus is, like, super healthy. Aside from the butter."

"I'm sure it will be delicious," the brunette says.

"I mean, it definitely will," Emma grins. "I just wanted to cook for you." A timer sounds off. "Oh, that's the garlic bread!" She wiggles out of Regina's grasp and extracts the pan of bread from the oven, a sight Regina seems to enjoy very much.

"You wanted to cook for me?" she repeats. "I'm flattered, dear, but why?"

Emma shrugs, removing the oven mitt and hoists herself up onto the counter. "I don't know. To show you I could, I guess. I just wanted to. You're always cooking for me and Henry. I thought it might be time to return the favor."

"You know you don't have to, right?" Regina situates herself between the blonde's legs, her hands resting on her thighs. Emma smiles while draping her arms over either of Regina's shoulders. "I don't have you two over for dinner out of a sense of duty. I do it because I want to. The only thing I want to get out of it is your company."

Emma raises her eyebrows. "That's the _only_ thing?"

Regina grins widely. "Well, maybe not the only thing." They kiss, Emma leaning forward into Regina, and Regina's hands slide up under her shirt.

"Hey, guys."

Regina jumps back from Emma, nearly knocking her off the counter, when Henry enters with a smirk. Emma cuts her eyes at him as he chuckles and retrieves a water bottle from the fridge.

"H-Hi, Henry," Regina says, flushed and embarrassed.

"Hey, Regina. I'm going to watch TV."

"Finish your homework?" Emma questions.

"Yep. I didn't have a lot-and no geometry."

"Thank God," the blonde sighs. "Go ahead. I'll yell when dinner's ready."

"Sweet." He walks out and drops in a pile on the sofa, kicking his shoes off before propping his feet up on the arm.

"You know you don't have to do that," Emma tells Regina. "He knows, and he thinks it's funny." Regina furrows her brow. "He walks in while we're kissing just so he can see you freak."

"What? Why would he do that?"

Emma smiles crookedly. "I mean, it is a little bit funny how you panic every time."

Regina narrows her eyes at her. "He is his mother's child."

The three of them eat dinner, which leaves Regina stunned by how well it is prepared, and Henry cons them all into watching _The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring_. Which, of course, doesn't require any convincing for Emma, who loves the series probably more than he does. Regina feigns disinterest, though she too is quickly enthralled. By the end of the almost four hour film, Henry is yawning and stretching, his eyelids slipping.

"Kid." Emma nudges him from where she is settled in Regina's arms, and he jumps awake as the credits roll. "Better go brush your teeth before you pass out."

"Okay." He hauls himself to his feet with a heavy sigh. "Night, Ma. Night, Regina." He stops as he rounds the couch and smiles at the two. "Hey, Regina, you should spend the night tonight."

"Why's that?" Regina asks.

"Because Ma wants you to," he grins. "She just won't ask." Emma sticks her tongue out at him. "And I would love to start out Saturday morning with apple-cinnamon pancakes. Ma tried to make them like you do, but they were mostly just mush."

"Hey!" Emma cries indignantly. "What is this? Beat up on your mother day?"

"Love you, too, Ma," he says before disappearing down the hall.

"He's in a good mood," Regina laughs, pulling Emma closer.

"Yeah, he should be," Emma says. "You know how we thought he would end up with Violet?"

"Did they finally make it official?"

"No, not him and her. But he is 'dating' someone."

"Who?"

Emma grins at her. "Nicolas."

Regina raises her eyebrows. "Nicolas... as in his best friend Nicolas Tillman?"

"Apparently more than his best friend. He told me earlier this evening. He was so nervous about it, but when he said it, he looked a thousand pounds lighter. Like he'd been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders." She rests her head against Regina's shoulder, watching the now blank TV screen thoughtfully. Regina combs her fingers through her hair dotingly. "I never really thought about how scary it must be to come out to your parents. I mean, when I did it, I didn't really have anyone, especially not parents. It was just... 'Yo, I'm gay. Deal with it, random strangers who don't care either way.'" Regina laughs. "Did you ever have to do that? Like, did you come out to your parents?"

The brunette's smile falls a bit, her eyes dimming. "Yes, I did. Though it wasn't willingly." Emma looks up at her with a knit brow. "I was sixteen. There was this girl, Mal. We were friends. Had been for a long time. She was spending the night at my house, and it was like... suddenly, I didn't _just_ want to be her friend, you know?" Emma nods. "So, I kissed her. She kissed me back. She was the first girl I'd ever kissed, the first time I realized I actually _wanted_ to be with girls like that, and it was better than I thought it would be. Until my mother walked in." Emma winces. She can only imagine the embarrassment. "She didn't take it well, to say the least. She sent Mal home and forbid us from seeing each other again. She grounded me. Pulled me out of my private school and hired tutors to teach me from our home. I couldn't go out on weekends anymore. I rarely left my room after that for two years until I left for college."

Emma's jaw drops. "Jesus Christ, intense much?"

"Yes," Regina sighs. "That was Mother."

"And your father? How did he take it?"

Regina smiles fondly. "Daddy, he took it better. He came up to me and talked to me. He told me that it was okay if I liked girls. He said that I didn't need to be ashamed, that I was just born like that, and I shouldn't change for anyone, not even Mother. He told me I didn't have to be afraid of who I am."

"How come he didn't tell your mom to back the hell off?"

At that, Regina's smile turns sad. "Daddy was a good, kind man, and he would protect me from everyone. Everyone except my mother. He just... he couldn't stand up to her. I never understood why until I got older." She squeezes Emma's hand. "For as long as she was alive, I lived in fear of disappointing my mother. I hid my sexuality from her and everyone else, denying myself the luxury of freedom even in adulthood. That was why I got involved with that boy before. His name was Daniel, and he was the only person Mother would allow in the house to see me. She thought we would make a good match. You see how well that turned out." Regina stiffens beside her, expression turning stony. "And she is also why I got married."

Emma frowns. "Wait. What? Married? You were married?"

Regina nods slowly, staring at Emma with clear anxiety in her eyes. "Yes. When I was young. Too young."

"How young?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen? Christ! That's... That's young."

"Yes, it is. Especially when your husband is nearly three times your age."

Emma wrinkles her nose. "Ugh. That's terrible. Who was the guy?"

"My mother, she was a politician, and she was always looking for a way to gain more power. He was a Senator, and she wanted a connection to him to propel her own career. He saw me at one of those stupid functions Mother always made me attend, and he liked me. She arranged it all from there. I was just coming off the heartbreak from Daniel, and I was too scared of letting her down to fight for myself." She wipes casually at her eyes, trying to hide the tears pooling in her the sides, and sniffs. "The marriage, if you'd even call it that, didn't last long. Like I said, he was much older than me, and he was very unhealthy. After four years, he had a heart attack. While in bed with his mistress."

"Fuck," Emma mutters. "God, Regina, I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I... I don't know what to say."

"I thought it was time I told you the truth," Regina says. "I don't share that seeking sympathy or pity. I don't want to hold anything back from you, Emma. I care about you too much. I just hope that this doesn't change the way you see me."

"Well, it does," Emma nods, and Regina frowns. "It makes me respect you that much more. You are the strongest, bravest person I've ever had the privilege of knowing, Regina Mills. You astound me. I love you." Regina smiles as Emma kisses the corner of her mouth. The blonde pulls back and sighs. "And in the spirit of sharing, I feel like I should tell you something, too."

"Oh, Emma, I was trying to-"

"I know you weren't, but I want to," Emma says. "Just... it may take me a minute, okay? I've never actually told anyone this before. Ever." Regina nods and holds Emma closer, providing a blanket of comfort with her arms. Emma releases a long breath. "So, Henry's father... His name was Neal, and he was my friend. Best friend, really. We were super close. Thick as thieves, and I mean that literally. We met on the streets, a couple of homeless misfits on the run. I actually met him while stealing his car. Which he had stolen before." Regina raises her eyebrows. "Yeah, crazy. Anyway, I was seventeen, and I'd just run away from a foster home. The worst one yet. Abusive drunks who'd sell their mothers' organs for a quick buck. I was in Portland, Oregon, and I just sort of fell in with Neal. We were two of a kind, y'know? Orphans with nowhere and no one to go to who had to steal to survive. It was dangerous living like that, and it was nice to finally have someone who had my back. He was my friend. Just my friend." She exhales again, this breath shakier. "And then he tried to kiss me one night, and I told him that I didn't feel that way about him. That I didn't even like guys at all like that, and he was cool about it. The guy was more like my brother than anything, and he said that was okay. We were camped out in the car together, and we were drinking some whiskey I'd nabbed from the liquor store earlier. And everything was great, but then we got really, really drunk." Her arms wrap around her stomach. "I-I don't honestly think Neal _meant_ to do it. Honestly, I don't. I think a lot of it was just the alcohol. I-I was blacked out, and he was drunk, and he just..." Her voice dies off into a wet, choked sound.

"Oh, no," Regina whispers and pulls Emma even closer.

The blonde doesn't cry as she rests her forehead against Regina's shoulder. She doesn't have tears anymore to cry over it. "I woke up, and he was on top of me. And his pants were still undone, and mine were gone completely. A-And I was bleeding because I'd never... you know before. I freaked out. Shoved him off and told him to fuck off. Just started screaming at him. He tried to apologize, but I told him to get the fuck out. And he did, and I haven't seen or heard from him since." She shakes her head. "I really don't think he wanted to hurt me, but he... he..."

"He took advantage of you," Regina finishes, and Emma nods.

"Yeah, he did. And even though I can't remember it, sometimes it's like I can, y'know? Sometimes I dream about it, and it's so awful. A fucking nightmare. I thought that was the end of it after he left. That I could just move on and act like nothing happened. But then, a month later, I started feeling weird. I didn't think I was pregnant. I hoped I wasn't. I didn't want to think that I could be, but then I took the test, and about ten others, and they were all positive. Not a lot of room to negate it after that. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I knew I had to do something with myself. So, I moved to Boston just because it was as far away from Portland as I could imagine, got a couple of jobs, found myself an apartment, and became an adult." She lifts her head, looking back at Regina. "And as much as I hate that it happened, I can't make myself regret it, honestly. Because, as horrific as it was, it gave me Henry, and I wouldn't trade that kid for anything in the world."

Regina strokes Emma's cheek softly with a small smile. "Thank you for telling me that, Emma. I know it isn't easy to talk about."

"I'm glad you know," Emma smiles back at her. "Like you said, I don't want to hold back anything from you. I love you, Regina, and I don't want there to be any secrets between us."

"I love you, too." She kisses her tenderly.

"So, are you going to spend the night after all?"

"I suppose I could. I'd certainly rather have a slumber party with you than go home and sleep alone."

"Slumber party," Emma says brightly, shooting up to her feet. "Yes! We can have a pillow fight!" She looks back at Regina seductively. "A _naked_ pillow fight."

Regina laughs. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it."

"I do. I love it very much."

"Good." Emma leans over her and kisses her again before grabbing her hands excitedly. "Come on! To my bedroom!" She pulls a still-laughing Regina to her feet and down the hallway.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: ***Look who's back again. They don't know? Go on, tell 'em. They don't know? Go on, tell 'em. This fic is about to end.*** Yeah, sorry, it is. Not yet, though. But we're, like, one or two chapters away at this point. Fiddling with the idea of an epilogue, but idk yet. So, I was looking back through the previous chapters and noticed a point of in-continuity. I introduced David through MM as a married man AFTER marrying Kathryn off to Frederick. Which was not intentional, just a symptom of my airhead. There was going to be some drama there, but nah, I didn't want to go back and rewrite previous chapters to set that up. So, I had to do some rethinking for this chapter as it was meant to go differently. Lol, it happens, I guess. I think it works. It isn't a major plot point to the story anyway, so whatevs. Oh, and btw, **major smut** ahead. Idk if you guys even give a crap about these warnings any longer since it's pretty much a given that it'll pop up periodically in one of my longer fics, but I figured I'd give you a heads up. Hope you guys like this update! :)_

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It is a crisp Saturday morning when Regina wakes in her bed like most others. Pale sunlight peeks through the curtains, and the clock on the wall ticks in the otherwise soundless home. It is a perfectly normal morning like any other.

The weight on the bed shifts with a small squeak from the springs, and an arm slips over her stomach. A body curls into hers, and a soft sight of contentment is released. Regina smiles as a wild blonde curl tickles at the side of her face and turns her head. Emma's face is smooth and serene laid only inches from her own, and her even breaths leave goosebumps on Regina's neck. When Regina wraps her own arms around Emma, pulling her closer to her, a small smile curls the blonde's lips.

"Are you fake-sleeping on me in order to get closer?" Regina asks quietly. The smile, shameless and unapologetic, remains on her girlfriend's face.

"Maybe," Emma responds after a moment or two. "Is it working?"

"Brilliantly, yes." Regina brushes Emma's hair back from her face tenderly. "But, you know, you really need not go to such lengths. If you want to be closer to me, all you have to do is ask."

Emma opens her eyes at last, and, as per usual, Regina melts at the cool green of them. She loves those eyes. Those eyes feel so much like home to her now.

"It's that simple, really?" Emma says with faux shock. "And here I've been going to such trouble to get you to hold me." They both know that is a major joke. Regina is always only looking for an excuse to wrap her arms around the blonde, in public or private. Emma smiles at her, and her nose wrinkles in the adorable way that makes Regina think her heart might explode. "Good morning, Gina."

"Good morning, Emma." She leans down and kisses her, a gesture which Emma returns immediately. Regina's hands slip under Emma's and rub circles into her back. Emma shivers at the motion of those fingers that she knows can do amazing things before sliding on top of Regina, straddling her waist.

"Someone's excited this morning," Regina laughs gently. Emma kisses down her neck, effectively stealing her breath away. "W-What about Henry?" The boy was asleep in what had basically become his bedroom down the hallway. The three of them had had a family sleepover at Regina's house the previous night, what had become something of a tradition for them.

"It's Saturday," Emma breathes against her pulse point. "He won't be awake for another hour-and-a-half. The door's locked, too." She lifts her head to grin at Regina. "So, we've got time, babe." She kisses her again, and Regina, reassured that they were safe, sighs into her mouth. Emma capitalizes on this moment and slips her tongue inside while her hands massage Regina's breasts through her silk slip, eliciting a huffed moan from the brunette.

"Emma," she gasps when the blonde bites into her bottom lip with that mischievous grin that makes Regina's underwear even wetter. "Emma, darling, don't tease me. Not right now."

"I've got an idea," Emma says, sitting up straighter but still with her hands on Regina's chest. Regina furrows her brow questioningly and catches the quick movement of Emma's eyes towards the connected bathroom to their right. It doesn't take more than a second or two for her to realize the implication, and she smiles back a the blonde.

Taking the smile for confirmation, Emma leaps to her feet immediately and scurries across cold hardwood floors for the bathroom, tearing her shirt off as she goes.

"Beat you there!" she calls back, and Regina can only laugh to herself while rising to her feet.

When she enters the bathroom, Regina finds a now fully nude Emma standing in front of the shower, one hand on her hip while the other is held under the stream of water. Steam begins to fog up the mirror and window, and she turns at the sound of Regina's footsteps.

"It's warm now," she says decidedly. "Ready to join me, your Majesty?"

Smirking at the nickname that has somehow stuck, Regina flicks the thin straps her slip off her shoulders, and the silk pools on the floor around her feet. As it always does, the sight of her bare body makes Emma's breath hitch, her chest swelling as she smiles widely.

"Yes, darling," Regina nods, stepping forward. She takes Emma's hands, intertwining their fingers. "I am very, very ready."

Emma grins before leading Regina into the large shower and under the hot stream of water. When the glass door is shut behind them, Regina immediately attaches their lips and presses Emma against the marble wall. Pinning her hands to the wall, Regina slips her knee between Emma's legs, parting them immediately. Emma gasps at the pressure placed to the apex of her thighs, head falling back against the wall as her feet slip on wet tile. Regina grins widely and releases her hands, which grip the brunette's shoulders for stability. Her fingers trace Emma's entrance with feather-light touches, leaving the blonde squirming. Even with the water falling down on them, she can feel how soaked with want Emma is.

"Oh, God, Regina," she whispers, eyes squeezed closed. "Please, Regina, please."

Leaning in closer, Regina nibbles at her ear. "Emma?"

"What?" The word is spoken in an exasperated rush, and it makes Regina smirk.

"I want you to open your eyes. I want to see your eyes when I make you come." To emphasize the word, she punctuates the statement by dipping her fingers inside Emma briefly.

Her response is a groan, but Emma pries her eyes open and looks pleadingly at Regina. "Okay. They're open. Please, Regina. I need you."

"Mm, I know you do," the brunette nods. "Now, make sure to keep those pretty eyes open for me, darling."

Without hesitating another second, she drives two fingers inside of Emma with enough force to pull a choked gasp from the blonde. She pounds into Emma steadily, using her knee to increase her momentum.

"Oh my God!" Emma shrieks, fingernails cutting crescent moons into Regina's shoulder blades. "Yes, Regina! Don't stop!"

Of course, the brunette isn't even considering stopping. This picture of the woman she loves falling apart in front of her is much too delicious to stop. When she uses her other hand to rub circles furiously against Emma's clit, the woman begins to shake and tremble.

But then, in the excitement of the moment, her eyes snap closed again, and Regina is disappointed as she stills all motion. In another second, Emma's eyes are open again, and she looks ready to murder.

"What?" she demands in a trembling voice. "Regina, why did you stop? What's wrong?" Her color drains. "Did you hear Henry?"

"No," Regina says simply. "You closed your eyes, Emma."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" the blonde groans. "I forgot, alright? I just... Look, they're open now, aren't they?"

"Yes," Regina nods and bites into the skin behind Emma's ear, drawing something between a startled gasp and a garbled moan from her. "And they'd better stay that way." She spreads her fingers inside Emma.

"They will," she breathes, nodding her head emphatically. "They will. God, Regina, I swear they will."

Regina smiles before soothing the red bite mark with her tongue, well aware that there will be a bruise there later and happy about it. "Good to know." In half a second, she is at it again, pumping into Emma without hesitation or mercy. A third finger slips easily into her, and Emma writhes against the wall, unable to even form coherent thoughts as single syllables huff past her lips. Her eyes stay open this time, and they are locked onto Regina, looking nowhere else but at her. Regina marvels at the approbation in those eyes, how, even when she is having her brains fucked out, Emma still beholds her with such unimaginable adoration and love. She can't even begin to comprehend how she got so lucky.

Regina twists her three fingers up inside of Emma, sliding deeper into her and hitting that spot she knows the blonde loves. And, just as she predicted, Emma rises with her, neck extending out and mouth wide open in a silent scream of pleasure. Still, she stares at Regina as her body quivers and her toes curl. She doesn't make a sound as she reaches her high, and Regina grins. Yes, it is much more gratifying to see those eyes when Emma comes.

Suddenly, Emma releases a loud gasp of air and folds into Regina, her forehead resting on her shoulder. Removing her fingers gently, Regina wraps her arms around the woman leaning on her and holds her tight. She loves these moments. The time after Emma has just come, when she is still shaking and trying to recover. When her mind is mush, and all she can do is fall into Regina's arms. She loves these soft, sweet moments of pure warmth and emotion.

They never last very long, though, and this time is no exception. Within a minute, Emma is back on her own two feet, and there is this devilish glimmer in her eyes as she grins widely. it sends a shiver down Regina's spine. As much as she loves the soft moments, she really, really loves when Emma looks at her so goddamned evil.

"Payback time," Emma says shortly before spinning Regina around in the shower. The brunette has no time to think before Emma bends her over.

"Emma," Regina says hesitantly. "What are you-"

Her words are halted by a gasp when Emma pushes one finger inside of her from behind.

"You want to play rough," Emma says in a voice that is too soft for this game they're playing. "I can do that." She fucks Regina with that one finger slowly, and it is nowhere near enough for the brunette.

"Emma, " Regina says. "More."

"Ah-ah," Emma responds playfully. "I had to keep my eyes open. You've got to work your way up nice and slowly to an orgasm. When you sound desperate enough, I'll speed up. But until then..." She pulls her finger out entirely before pushing it back in deeper slowly.

"That's... It's cruel." Even as she says it, Regina feels her own desire drip down her legs at the situation. This is the first time in their relationship that she's seen that woman she had seen on the stage at Wonderland. The dominatrix. The disinterested woman who demanded control and respect and obedience.

"Maybe." Emma leans closer until her breath tickles Regina's ear. "But you like it, don't you?"

Regina hesitates before nodding. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Emma presses a kiss to her temple, and she can feel her smile there. "Honesty. That deserves a reward." Emma inserts two fingers inside of Regina, quickening her pace. Regina gasps, and her hands press against the steamed glass in front of her to keep from tumbling forward into it. She moans head falling back as water beats down on her back. There is just something so erotic about it, something that makes her knees quiver. About this game. About Emma taking her from behind. They had yet to really experiment in their relationship, and now... now, Regina wonders if she'll ever be able to get out of bed with Emma most days.

"Do you want more?" Emma asks her, and her voice is still so gentle, so out of place with how she roughly corkscrews her fingers into Regina. Regina loves it. She loves that, even with this game, Emma cannot help but be tender with her in some ways.

"Yes," she gasps, pushing back against Emma's hand eagerly. "I want more, Emma."

Emma hums, slowing her pace and moving her two fingers in circles inside of Regina. "I don't know if you sound desperate enough yet."

"Please!" Regina keels. "Emma, please! I _need_ more!"

Emma chuckles behind her. "Ah. Now, that is begging. Exactly what I love to hear from you." Two fingers become three suddenly, and Emma slams into Regina. Her teeth sink into the space between Regina's neck and shoulder, not deep enough to break the skin but enough to send a jolt of pain through the brunette's body. Regina moans at the mixture of pain and pleasure, shaking.

"Yes! Emma, yes! Don't stop-please, don't stop!" She is barely even aware of what she is saying, all of her attention captured by the varying sensations Emma sends through her. The thumb of her free hand comes to rest on Regina's asshole, not entering but simply providing a small bit of pressure there, and Regina freezes, both startled by the action itself and by how good it feels to her.

"Do you want me to stop?" Emma asks quietly, well aware that this is something new for Regina.

"No," Regina says with a shuddering breath. "No, don't. God, don't stop, Emma."

So, she doesn't stop. She continues to fuck Regina, and her thumb probes small circles over her asshole, never pushing too far or too hard. And Regina feels all of it, and she knows that she is going to come. She feels it building inside of her, feels herself tightening around Emma's fingers.

Emma apparently feels it too as she presses a kiss to Regina's ear lobe. "Come for me, Regina."

And she does. She comes, and a wetness is released onto Emma's hand. She comes harder than she thinks she ever has in her life, her extremities turning to jelly in Emma's arms. The blonde holds her up, turning her back around as the aftershocks continue to wrack her body. She holds Regina in her arms the very way that Regina had held her, supporting her, loving her. She presses kisses softly to Regina's neck as the woman regains her senses and whispers sweet words to her.

When Regina finally lifts her head, she looks at Emma, and there are tears swimming in her eyes.

Emma frowns, eyes widening. "Oh, no. Regina, was it too much? I thought you liked it. I didn't mean to... Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I-"

"Emma," she says. "That's not what it is. I just... I love you so much."

At this, the blonde smiles softly and wipes away what tears escape from Regina's eyes. "Oh, man. You scared the hell out of me." Regina laughs, and Emma kisses her deeply. "I love you, too, Regina. So much. Now, we should probably hurry before the kid wakes up."

They take barely over ten minutes to actually shower before exiting the bathroom together. They get dressed and ready for the day before making their way downstairs, both feeling refreshed and loose. Regina starts a pot of coffee while Emma peruses the fridge for breakfast.

"Hey, guys." Henry appears in the doorway, already dressed with his hair combed. "Do you think we could get breakfast at Granny's this morning? Nicolas texted me and said that his dad is taking him and Ava there."

Emma smirks. "Well, I guess we could do that." She looks at Regina. "What do you think?"

"I don't see why not," Regina shrugs. "I haven't gone to the grocery store yet anyway, so I don't have a lot here."

"Sweet!" Henry pumps his arm and scrambles to grab his coat from the closet. "Hurry up-what are you guys waiting for?"

"Take it easy, kid," Emma chuckles as she and Regina don their coats as well. "You'll get to hang out with Nicolas and Ava plenty, I promise."

The three get into Emma's car together, a tight squeeze for them all, and she begins driving to Granny's.

"I've been thinking," the blonde muses. "Maybe it's time I look into a new car."

"What?" Henry frowns. "A new car? Ma, you love the Beetle. It's, like, your second child."

She smiles at him in the rear view mirror. "Well, yeah, but look at us all cramped in here. The Beetle worked when it was just you and me, but there's three of us now. And Gina's car isn't too big, either. I figure the three of us will all be going a lot of places together now, y'know? Like, vacations and road trips and stuff. I'm thinking a bad-ass SUV or off-roading vehicle would be pretty great."

"Emma," Regina frowns. "I don't want to be the reason you get rid of the car you love."

She takes her hand warmly. "Babe, I like this car a whole lot. It's got a lot of memories in it, but I don't love it. I love you, and I love Henry. Giving up this car for more trips with you two? Trust me, that is more than a fair trade." Regina smiles at her. "So, kid, what do you think? I was thinking about one of those cool, four-door Jeeps."

"Oh, man! That would be so sick! We could climb a mountain with it!"

"Absolutely not," Regina says pointedly, and both look at her like scorned children, one because he is and the other because she might as well be. "Do you know how easy it is to flip one of those things? And don't get me started on their transmissions! Getting into one of those machines is as good as signing one's own death warrant."

"Aw, but, Gina," Emma groans, "they're so cool!"

"Is dying cool to you, Emma?"

"No, but-"

"No buts. You are not getting one of those death traps."

"Please?" Henry throws in, sticking his bottom lip out. "We promise we'll be careful."

"Number one, you are not yet old enough to drive, young man, so you'll be promising nothing. Secondly, it's still too dangerous."

"But, Ma is a great driver, and she's super safe all the time. Can't we have it, Mom?" Henry stops dead, his eyes wide at his own slip-up. The car is silent aside from the engine puttering along. Both Henry and Regina look to Emma, who they expect to look angry or sad or at the very least unnerved. She doesn't, though. She doesn't look any of those things. Instead, she grins from ear-to-ear, and she is practically glowing with joy and certainty. Like she knew it would happen sooner or later.

"Yeah, _Mom?_ " she repeats, looking at Regina gleefully. "Can't we?"

For the second time that morning, Regina is overcome with pure happiness, and it swims in her eyes. She turns around to face a somewhat-scared-looking Henry in the back seat and takes his hand in hers.

"I'll think about it, honey," she says to him, and he smiles back. She squeezes his hand before turning back around in her seat. She can't stop smiling, and Emma grins as well from beside her. When they park in front of the diner, Henry spots Ava and Nicolas sitting with their father inside and scrambles ahead to greet them. Emma and Regina follow behind him, hands clasped together.

"I can't believe it," Regina whispers as they enter the diner. "He called me Mom. He actually called me Mom." She looks at a still-grinning Emma. "Why are you so calm about this? I thought you might be angry over it."

"No way," the blonde shakes her head. "I love it. Besides, I saw it coming a mile away. Pretty sure he's thought of you in that way for a long time. He just never said anything about it out loud." They sit down together while Henry, Ava, and Nicolas take up a table between theirs and the twins' father.

"Really? What makes you think so?"

Emma smirks. "He's been asking me for months when we're going to move in together." Regina chuckles. "He's crazy about you, Gina. He always has been."

Regina smiles and clears her throat. "And, uh, when will that be?"

Emma looks over the menu, even though she knows she will order the same thing she always does. "When will what be?"

"When will we move in together?"

Emma head snaps up, eyes wide. "Oh, I... um, I don't know."

"I'm not trying to push anything," Regina assures her. "If you aren't ready for it, by all means, we can wait. I was just curious. We have been dating for the past five months, and I think things are going well-"

"They're going super well," Emma interjects. "Like, the best."

Regina smiles. "Good. And, I've noticed that you and Henry spend more and more time over at my place now anyway, and I just... well, I just want you to know that whenever you're ready for it, I am, too."

"Really? You're seriously ready for that?"

"Yes," the brunette nods confidently. "I think I've been ready for it for a while now. I know we don't want to rush, but it sort of feels like to me that we're just putting off something we both want for fear of moving too fast for the other. I mean, we're already family. What are we waiting for?"

Emma squints at her. "Is this your roundabout way of asking me to move in with you?"

Regina chuckles. "Yes, I suppose it is. So, what do you say? Move in with me?"

Dramatically, Emma taps her chin. "Well, I'd have to think about it. I mean, that's a big step and all, and I need to consider all the pros and cons." She sighs. "Pros: I get to sleep with you every single night and wake up with you every morning and take showers with you as much as possible. Cons: don't really matter after those pros. I'm in. My lease is up in another month, so start making room." Regina laughs, and Emma smiles at her. "So, we're really going to do it? We're going to move in together?"

"We are," she nods.

Emma grins widely. "I'm super excited now. Henry's going to go nuts over it. He was already planning on how he would set up his room at your place."

"Good," Regina says with a smile. "Now, I'm going to run to the bathroom a moment. I'll be back shortly. If Ruby comes around while I'm gone, order me a-"

"Coffee and an orange juice," Emma finishes for her. "I got it."

"I've trained you well," Regina states proudly while Emma rolls her eyes. She starts for the bathroom before turning back to Emma. "And don't get yourself a hot chocolate. It's too early for that much sugar."

"You're really jumping headfirst into this mom role, aren't you?" Emma grumbles back, earning herself a swat to the back of the head. "Alright, alright! No hot chocolate. Jeez."

Ruby comes around, and Emma gives their orders, asking rather begrudgingly for the same as Regina got.

"So, how's the new waitress working out?" Emma asks with a grin, nodding to where her replacement, Dorothy Gale, is tending to a table. Ruby blushes in response, grinning widely.

"She's doing great," she says cryptically. "Way better than you ever did."

Emma feigns outrage. "How dare you, Ruby Lucas? I gave you and this diner some of my best work!" Ruby rolls her eyes as Emma sinks back in her booth. "So, tell me you've made a move on her now that you're both working together."

"A move?" Ruby frowns. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't? Jesus, Rubes, what do I have to do? Ask her out for you?"

"Would you?"

The blonde snorts. "Pussy."

"I am not!"

"Are, too! You've been talking about asking her out for months, and you've yet to find the balls to do it. Step up, woman. Get your shit together. I mean, you see her every day. You've got plenty of opportunities."

Ruby chews on the end of her pen. "But what if she says no?"

"What kind of question is that? If she says no, you deal with it and move onto someone else. It will suck for a while and be awkward, but it'll work out. At least you'll get some kind of closure then. Ruby, you can't keep moping around her like this. Besides, she's not going to say no because who are you?"

Ruby furrows her brow. "Ruby Lucas?"

"Fuck yeah, you're Ruby Lucas. Ruby Lucas, major hottie. Ruby Lucas, total babe. Ruby Lucas, the fucking Super Pan. That's you, bitch. Own it."

"You're right," the brunette nods. "You're totally right. I'm the fucking Super Pan. Whatever the answer, I've got to at least try." She exhales. "I'm going to do it."

"Awesome, but could you put in our drink orders first? I could really handle that coffee. Rubes? Ruby?"

The waitress ignores her as she marches straight up to Dorothy, who is putting in an order to Granny.

"Ruby," Dorothy says, turning and raising her eyebrows at finding her so close to her. "What's up?"

"I have to ask you something," Ruby says. "I've wanted to for a long time, and I've got to do it now."

Dorothy knit her brow uncertainly. "Um... okay, what is it?"

Ruby sucks in a deep breath and releases the question in one long, gush of air. "Willyougooutwithme?"

For a moment, Dorothy only stares at her as if she didn't understand the question. Then, she smiles brightly.

"About time you asked," she laughs. "I've been waiting for years."

" _What?_ " Ruby demands. "You knew?"

"Of course. Why do you think I walked in front of the diner every morning before or took this job? I was waiting for you to say something."

"Oh my God. So, is that a yes?"

"Totally. How about I pick you up tonight? We can go see a movie."

"A-Awesome," Ruby stutters. "That's... Yeah, I'd love that."

"Cool." Dorothy pecks her on the cheek before brushing past her to wait on a new group of people.

Stunned, Ruby turns and looks at Emma, who is grinning brightly at her.

"Did that just happen?" Ruby questions.

"Hells yeah it did!" Emma shouts from across the diner. "You got game, Rubes! What's that? A bird? A plane? No way, it's Super Pan Ruby Lucas!"

Ruby smiles back, pumping her fist. "Super Pan strikes again."

"Do I even want to know what's going on here?" Regina questions as she slides back into the booth beside Emma.

Emma wraps her arm around her. "Ruby finally asked Dorothy out, and she said yes."

"And so you'd naturally begin to call her Super Pan?"

"Yeah. Because she's pansexual."

"Yes, dear, I gathered as much."

"I thought it was pretty clever."

Regina smiles before kissing her cheek. "It was certainly cute."

"Aren't you going to ask me if I ordered hot chocolate or not?"

"No. I'm certain you didn't." She grins. "I've got you trained, remember?"

Emma sticks her tongue out at her, but she has no actual comeback. "Whatever." Regina laughs and rests her head on her shoulder.

The bell over the door rings out, and Emma glances over and smiles. Mary Margaret enters with a tall man with the bluest eyes she has ever seen, both appearing wrapped up completely in each other. And, as Emma is very quick to notice, the man has no wedding ring on his finger. As he is pulling out a seat for her at an open table, though, she makes eye contact with Emma, and she smiles widely, blushing slightly and confirming her suspicions. Emma chuckles.

"What are you laughing about?" Regina inquires.

"Nothing," she sighs. "Just Mary Margaret. She finally got her dude." She looks down at Regina. "Seems like everyone is getting their happy endings after all."

"It would appear so," the brunette agrees. "After that shower this morning, I can't wait to give you an even happier ending tonight." Emma beams excitedly at the prospect.

Then, her phone begins to ring, and she fishes it out of the pocket of her tight jeans. Seeing her boss's name flash across the front, she sighs to herself before answering.

"Graham, what's up?"

"Hey, Em. Nothing major. I know you're off today, but could you do me a huge favor and pick up the late patrol tonight? I have a ton of paperwork I've got to get through still, and I don't yet trust that kid we just brought on to do patrols by himself. All you've got to do is come here, grab a cruiser, and do a quick patrol. Nothing major. It'll no doubt be as quiet as it always is. I just can't find the time to do it myself."

"Sure, Graham, I got it. Just have Steven help you finish that paperwork so you can get home before midnight." As part of his community service for busting that car window, they had worked it out so that Steven would volunteer at the station. Since then, his punishment had ended, but they'd offered him a part-time job to help out around the station. So far, he'd been working out pretty well in the office, but neither of them thought him ready to do any active work alone yet.

"Sure thing, Swan. Thanks again-I'll see you tonight."

"Right. Bye, boss-man." She hangs up, placing the phone down on the table as Ruby brings their drinks over.

"What'd he want?" Regina asks.

"Asked me to take the late patrol tonight," Emma answers. "I don't really want to, but we've been swamped with paperwork recently. The guy hardly ever leaves his office most days, and Steven isn't ready for a patrol by himself. It won't take long-just a routine drive through town to make sure nothing sketchy is going on. I'll be back home within an hour."

"You'd better be," Regina smiles. "I won't wait up for you forever, you know."

Emma smirks. "Yes, you will."

The brunette sniffs. "Well, maybe I will, maybe I won't. You'll have to find out."

Emma laughs and kisses her cheek. "Whatever you say, your Majesty." She faces the waiting waitress. "Now, Ruby, I want pancakes-lots of pancakes. All the pancakes, actually. And there should be eggs and bacon as well. And toast, I'll need that, too."

"Jesus Christ," Ruby says. "Heading to the electric chair after this?"

"Shut up. You know I've got a healthy appetite." She continues to name several other things she'd like while Regina just shakes her head and laughs beside her.

The woman's a fool. She is head-over-heels in love with a complete fool. Though, she thinks that must make her a fool, as well. The thought doesn't upset as much as she thought it would've before she met Emma.

After all, she'd take the title of fool every day to keep that warm feeling of love and devotion that fills her chest every time she looks at Emma Swan.

* * *

 _A/N: Well, it took twenty-two or so chapters, but the Super Pan joke finally made the cut. ;)_


	25. Chapter 25

Emma is beginning to wonder if moving in with Regina is as good an idea as she originally thought. Because here she is, cuddled up on the sofa with the woman wrapped in her arms, Henry flipping through TV channels in the chair beside them. There's hot cocoa and a fire in the hearth, and it's warm, and Regina smells and feels amazing pressed up against her. And she really, really needs to get up so she can go take care of this stupid night patrol, but damn it if she doesn't think she can. It's just all so perfect and everything she's ever wanted. How is she ever going to get anything done when she could just stay home and do this?

The clock chimes above them, and she glances up at it. Ten o'clock. She really has to go now or else she'll be late.

"Babe," she says, and Regina hums her acknowledgement. "You have to let me up. I have to go patrol for Graham."

"No." Regina burrows further into her, pulling Emma's arms tighter around her, and the blonde can't help but smile. "Tell him something came up, and you can't make it after all. You're too comfortable of a pillow."

"So, _that's_ why you like me so much," Emma teases, and Regina grins. "And here I thought it was my irresistible charm and rugged good looks."

"Don't oversell yourself, dear," Regina throws back.

"Rude." Emma kisses her cheek anyway. "As much as I would love to stay right here, and I really would, I can't. I promised Graham I'd help out. It won't take me long-an hour tops. You won't even miss me." She shimmies out from under Regina, sitting up and slipping on her boots.

Regina leans in beside her, brushing her lips against her ear. "Hm, I will certainly miss you, darling. I always do."

"I'll miss you, too," Emma says, turning towards her and kissing her lips. "It won't be for long, though. Then, I'm right back here, and I'm all yours." She stands and ruffles Henry's hair, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead as she passes by. "See you in a few, kid. Don't watch too many cartoons."

"You'd better get back in time for Conan," he says. "I'm not waiting to watch it."

"We've got it set to DVR. Just wait for me, and we'll watch it when I get back."

He looks at her somberly. "There are two problems with that. One, you know it's physically impossible for me to stay up past twelve. My internal clock knocks me out at midnight. Two, you know I prefer to watch it live. Makes me feel like a more present, attentive audience."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Jesus, Gina. You're teaching the kid too much." Regina beams proudly at him, and he smiles back slyly. Emma grabs her jacket. "Alright, I'll be back ASAP."

"Be careful, Emma," Regina tells her as she walks her to the door. Emma opens the door, and they both shiver at the chilly night air. "If you do see anything strange, you make sure you call Graham for help. I don't like the idea of you out there by yourself this late."

"I'll be fine, Gina," Emma smiles at her. "I'm always super careful, and nothing ever happens on these patrols. Worst case scenario, I have to escort a drunk Leroy home from the bar. That's about all the excitement we get around here."

"Still," Regina frowns. "It makes me uneasy."

"I know it does, and I love how considerate and concerned you are. I promise I will be super careful, and I won't take any unnecessary risks."

"You won't take any risks at all," Regina corrects sharply and pulls Emma's beanie from the rack by the door when a particularly icy gust of wind blows through the blonde's bomber jacket. She tugs it over blonde curls securely. "I have spent a very long time hoping and wishing for you, Emma Swan. I refuse to lose you now."

Emma smiles, readjusting the hat so she can actually see properly. "I'll be careful, Gina. I'm not going anywhere, I swear." Leaning forward, she kisses the brunette again, deeper and more openly this time now that Henry isn't there to see. "I love you. I'll be back soon."

"I love you, too." Regina watches her bound down the walkway to her car, hurrying because of the cold. She doesn't close the door and re-enter the house until the Bug is started and driving away.

Emma curses herself for ever agreeing to patrol tonight. It's cold as hell, and she'd much rather be back home with Regina and Henry. She smiles to herself. It is weird to her how quickly Regina's house really has become home to her. She's never felt so comfortable and loved anywhere else in her life. Although she knows that has nothing to do with the house itself and everything to do with the company. No matter where they may go, she knows that as long as she has Regina and Henry, that warm feeling of belonging will remain. They're her home now. She wonders if maybe they always have been, even before she met Regina, even before she had Henry. In so many ways, it feels like she has been searching for her all her life, searching for the person who would love her the way she desires, the way she deserves. She had begun to lose faith she ever would find that. But then Regina Mills, infuriating, adorable, wonderful Regina Mills turned her entire world upside down in one look.

She knew from the start that nothing would ever be the same after that.

When Emma pulls up to the station, it is quiet. Graham is locked away in his office, pouring over files and reports, and Steven sits at the desk across from Emma's doing the same thing, though on his computer. When he had found out that the station still ran on actual paper and filing cabinets, he had nearly had a heart attack. Immediately, the kid had set up a database for the station, pulling Graham, kicking and screaming, into the 21st century. The Sheriff himself had opted to keep to the old pen and paper routine, but Emma prefers the digital format, even if the computers they have are ancient and tragically slow. Being able e-mail the files rather than hand-deliver them or wait for the post office to send them is a huge plus, though Graham refuses to admit it. Emma has never seen someone so young be such a severe technophobe.

"Hey, Stevie," Emma says upon entering, and the boy glances up at her behind the glow of the computer screen. "Long night?"

"Extremely," he sighs. "Graham won't come out of his office. We got into an argument when I tried to explain the benefits of the Cloud to him. He thinks I'm some kind of government spy now." Emma chuckles while unlocking her desk drawer and procuring the key to her designated cruiser. Which just happens to be the fastest one. She'd called dibs on it, much to her boss's chagrin. "You heading out for patrol?"

"Yep," Emma nods. "Told Graham I'd do it tonight since you two are so swamped in here. Shouldn't be long. I'll be back to drop the cruiser off."

"Alright. Be careful."

She chuckles. "Why does everyone seem to think I'm going to get myself hurt?"

"Because we know you," Steven grins back at her. "You've got a reputation of being kind of reckless, Emma."

"Do not. I'm super reck-full."

He laughs. "Just get out of here. And make sure your cell phone is on and charged, will you? Last time you let it die on patrol, your girlfriend called the office all worked up because she thought you were dead." He cringes. "She was terrifying. I never thought someone could be so threatening over a phone call, but she was."

Emma smirks. "That's my sweetie pie. Don't worry, I've got my phone on me. I'll be back in a few."

She walks back out into the cold and ducks into her cruiser. Turning the engine on, she cranks up the heater as hard as it will go and pulls out onto Main Street.

Patrolling Storybrooke is tedious enough on a good day, but tonight when she should be at home with her family, it is practically torture for Emma. She tries to do it quickly while also being effective. As much as she just wants to hurry up and get home, she'd never forgive herself if she accidentally overlooked a potential emergency.

She turns off of a residential street onto Harbor Street, aptly named as it runs parallel to the Storybrooke Harbor itself. Tapping her fingers restlessly along the steering wheel to the beat of the B-52s song that plays faintly over the radio, Emma scans the area, checking in between the buildings for any sign of suspicious activity. Though she's never actually found anything there before, she is always careful to be extra attentive around there. The place just gives her the creeps at night.

Just as she is satisfied that all is well, she catches sight of movement near the docks. Under the dim glow of the street lamp, she can make out two figures facing each other, one clearly masculine and the other feminine. The man has a slight sway to his feet, obviously drunk, and he has the woman backed up to the edge of the dock. The girl cannot go forward and does not have the space to sidestep him, trapped between him and the harbor. Emma brings the cruiser to a halt in the road, watching carefully to see if her assistance is required. When the woman pushes the man, he grabs her arms forcefully, nearly knocking them both into the water. At this, Emma cuts the engine to the cruiser, radios a possible altercation back to the station, and jumps out, running to the pair.

"Hey!" she shouts as she nears them. "What's going on here?"

The man stiffens before turning around, his hands still gripping the younger woman. He has pushed her even further back, and the heels of her sneakers are dangling off the edge of the dock. She looks at Emma with fearful brown eyes begging for help, and Emma notes how she can't be much more than eighteen or so. Poor thing is obviously scared out of her mind, and Emma shudders at how very well she recognizes that look. How she herself had worn it at that very same age.

When she catches sight of the man intimidating the girl, it only makes Emma's blood boil hotter.

"Well, well," Killian Jones sneers at her. "If it isn't Emma Swan. Long time, no see, love."

"Killian," she growls. "Appears that you've sunk even lower than the last time I saw you." She nods to the girl still in his grasp. "Let her go."

"This is a private conversation between she and I," Killian slurs. "It's none of your business."

"Well, it's fairly apparent she isn't comfortable with the way things have gone," Emma says and looks to the girl. "Am I right?"

"Yes!" she exclaims. "I was just walking home, and he came out of nowhere and grabbed me!"

"Shut up, you!" Killian snaps at her, cutting his eyes at her. He looks back to Emma and smiles nastily. "There's nothing to be alarmed over."

"You're drunk, Killian," Emma says. "Let go of the girl and go home. Sleep it off. You don't want to do something you'll regret."

His eyes gleam at her. "Something I'll regret? Y'know, it almost sounds like you care about me, Swan." She rolls her eyes. He couldn't be more wrong. He releases the girl and advances on Emma. She narrows her eyes at him, refusing to back up or show weakness. He'd made her feel powerless before. He wouldn't do it again. "I always knew you had a soft spot for me deep down." He reaches out a hand and brushes her cheek with it, and she jerks back from his touch. "You cost me a lot, Swan, do you know that?"

Suddenly, he grabs hold of her hair and jerks it. She shrieks out in pain, stumbling to the side and clawing at his hand in her hair.

"I told you it wasn't over between us, didn't I?" he shouts at her furiously. "I said you'd see me again!" Jerking her forward by her hair, he slams her against a nearby brick building and grabs both of her shoulders firmly, gritting his teeth as he looks her over with watery, contempt-filled eyes. "I said I'd get you back, and I intend to do just that. Before, this would've been as enjoyable for you as it will be for me. But now-well, now you've pissed me off, and I'm not feeling quite so charitable."

She curls her lip hatefully at him. "Get your goddamn hands off of me." He smirks and giggles at her. However, all his amusement disappears when she rears her head back and lunges it forward, smacking into his own. While she does succeed in getting him to release her, she also disorients herself with the move. She has just shaken the stars away from her eyes when she sees Killian coming forward with his fist back as if to hit her. She dodges his sluggish, intoxicated movements keenly, ducking under his arm. When he turns back around to face her, she is ready for him. She smashes her fist dead into his face. His nose lets out a nasty crack, and he crumples to the ground with blood gushing down his face and painting his lips and chin crimson. He looks up as if to struggle back to his feet, but he stops when he sees the gun the blonde has pointed down at him. With her jacket pushed back slightly, he catches sight of the Deputy's badge pinned to her belt.

Seeing him looking at the shining badge, Emma smirks at his horrified expression. "Yeah, you're under arrest, dickhead."

Flipping him on his back, she cuffs him and reads him his rights, being none too gentle about it. Standing back up, she faces the girl.

"Are you alright?" she asks."

The girl swallows and nods. "Yes, I'm fine. That was amazing, thank you." Emma smiles, putting her gun away. The girl glances down at her hand and frowns. "Oh, God-your hand!"

"What do you mean?" Emma looks down at her right hand and finds her knuckles busted open and painted red. Her knuckles are misshapen and already swelling, and she can tell something is broken. "Damn. Really nailed him, didn't I?"

Seconds later, a second police cruiser pulls up, siren blaring and lights flashing, and skids to a stop in front of them. Graham leaps out, eyes wide and gun out.

"Emma!" he calls, running up to her. "Are you alright? I tried to radio you to see if the possible altercation progressed, but you didn't answer. I feared the worst."

"I'm alright," she says and nods to where Killian still lay, groaning and bleeding. "He's the perp. I arrested him for harassing this young woman and assault on a police officer."

"Assault?" Graham repeats, stepping closer to her. "Emma, are you alright? What happened?" He catches sight of her hand. "Oh my God, your hand!"

"Yeah, I think I may have broken it punching him," she says and winces when she looks back down at the cracked skin and bones of her knuckles. Now that the adrenaline is leaving her body from the fight, the pain is making itself more and more prevalent, and her hand is throbbing with it. "Hurts like a bitch, actually. If you can get this guy to the station, I'm going to drive myself to the emergency room."

"You're not driving yourself anywhere," Graham says sternly. "You're in no shape to drive right now, Emma. I brought Steven along with me just in case." She looks over and finds the boy standing timidly by the cruiser. "While I take this guy and the young woman back to the station to take their statements, he is going to take you to the hospital." She opens her mouth to argue, but he doesn't let her. "No arguments, Emma."

She frowns, but she hasn't got the strength to press the issue. Not when her hand hurts so bad. "Fine. Whatever." She looks back down at Killian. "Just make sure you give him the worst holding cell we got."

Graham smirks at her. "Will do." She turns to walk back to the cruiser where Steven is waiting. Oh, and Emma?" She looks back at Graham, and he smiles at her. "Excellent job. I knew I was right in picking you as my deputy."

She smiles back at him and salutes with her good hand. "Just doing my job, Sheriff." She hobbles, exhausted, to the cruiser and tosses Steven the keys. "Hurry and get me to the hospital, kid. I need pain meds, and I fucking need them now."

Steven gets her to the hospital in record time, gagging constantly over the sight of blood, and she is admitted to the emergency room. Steven waits by the door, looking anywhere but at her injury, while Dr. Whale examines her.

"Well, Deputy Swan," the doctor says, "I don't know who you were punching, but I'd certainly hate to be them. It's a metacarpal fracture, what we call the Boxer's fracture. I was hoping maybe it was hairline fracture, but it's a clean break. Thankfully, you got here in time that I don't see any nerve damage, and the break doesn't seem to be restricting blood flow. You certainly put a lot of force behind this."

"He had a hard head," she dismisses, wincing as the doctor carefully flexes her hand. "Can I just get something for the pain now, Whale? Seriously, I'm at a ten. I'm above ten. I'm miles above a ten right now."

"I imagine so." Whale turns towards the IV bag on the stand next to where she sits on the edge of the hospital bed. "I've got a drip ready for you-should knock out the pain. We're also going to get some fluids and anti-inflammatory drugs to reduce the swelling. Then, we'll wrap that hand up in a cast, give you a prescription, and you should be able to go home." He holds up the needle connected to the drip, and she cringes. She hates needles. "But I'm going to need you to lie back, alright? These meds are pretty strong, and they're probably going to make you a little, um, disoriented."

"You mean they're going to make me loopy?" Emma sighs. "Great. This is going to be fun to explain to Regina when I get home." She lays back in the bed.

"About that..." Steven says guiltily from where he is pressed against the wall.

Emma snaps her eyes at him. "About _what_? Steven, what did you do?" He chews on his lip. "Please, tell me you didn't."

"I had to, Emma. I told you, she scares me."

"Shit, Steven! She's going to be totally freaked out!"

"You don't know that," he says, toeing at the floor. "She could be totally calm about it."

"Emma Swan!" Emma looks up as Dr. Whale readies the drip and finds Regina hauling ass inside the room, Henry glued to her side. Her eyes are wide and wet and red, and Emma can't decide if she looks more worried or pissed.

"Regina," Emma says. "There's no need to get worked up."

Regina sees her hand, cleaned of most of the blood but still grotesquely bent and broken, and gasps. "Oh my God! Your hand!"

"I wish everyone would stop saying that," Emma groans. She sees Whale flick the tip of the needle. "I'm going to need a three-count for that, Doc. I hate needles."

"Trust me, Deputy," he says. "With all the pain you're in right now, this needle won't feel like anything."

"What happened?" Regina demands.

Emma looks away from Whale to her. "It's sort of a long story." She catches sight of Henry at the foot of the bed, staring wide-eyed at her hand and frowns. "Hey, kid. Everything's okay, yeah? I'm fine. Just a broken hand."

"I know," he says and grins at her. "It's totally awesome, Ma! Steven said you broke your hand punching some bad guy! That's so cool!"

She sighs and chuckles despite the pain in her hand as Whale searches for a suitable vein in her arm. She should've known she wouldn't need to worry about traumatizing him. The kid is like a duck-stuff just rolls off his back like water. "Doesn't feel so cool right now."

"I told you to be careful," Regina says sharply. "I told you to call for back-up if you saw anything."

"I radioed in to let Graham know," Emma argues irritably. "I just didn't have time to wait for him-I couldn't just let a crime happen right in front of me!" While she is distracted, Whale plunges the needle into Emma's arm, and she nearly jumps out of the bed in shock. " _Ah_! Shit, I thought you said it wouldn't hurt!"

"I lied," he says back with a smile, and she glares at him. "Don't worry, though. In another minute or so, you won't be feeling anything but good." Immediately, Emma feels the cold medication running into her veins, and the abnormal sensation makes her shiver. Her mind begins to relax as the medication eases her pain.

"Oh, man," Emma blinks. "This-This is the good stuff, huh? Like, seriously." She looks over at Regina, her eyelids suddenly heavy. "We need to get some of this for home."

"Glad it's working," Whale smirks. "I'm going to let that run through you. A nurse will bring in the anti-inflammatory shortly."

"Thanks, Doc," Emma says as he leaves the room. "You're a miracle worker."

"Emma," Regina says, and she clearly tries to remain firm. However, with Emma's head lolling from side to side and her words running together, it's hard. "Emma, you promised me I wouldn't have to worry. You promised I wouldn't lose you." Her voice breaks as tears fill her eyes.

"Gina, you don't have to worry," Emma says softly, smiling at her. "I broke my hand. No big deal. I'm not going anywhere." She holds her good hand out, and Regina immediately takes it as she moves closer to her bedside. Emma takes her hand and places it on her chest. "Feel that? I'm still here."

Regina smirks. "Dear, your heart is on the other side."

Emma furrows her brow down at where she has placed Regina's hand on the right side of her chest. "Oh. Whatever. You know what I mean."

"I do." Regina leans down and rests her forehead against Emma's. "When Steven called me and said you'd been hurt... God, I was so scared, Emma. So terrified of what might've happened."

"It was nothing big, babe."

"But it _could've_ been, Emma. It could've been so much worse."

"Nature of the job," the blonde tells her. "But I promise I'll be more careful. I'll start calling in for back-up. I'll make Graham hire more deputies so we can have two-officer patrols. And I'll be damned if I ever take on anymore late-night patrols on my day off. This is some bullshit." Regina laughs hoarsely, tears seeping down her cheeks. Emma kisses them away softly. "It'll be okay, Gina. I'm okay. You're okay. Everything's okay."

"I know," she says and cups Emma's cheek. "I love you."

"And I love you, you sexy lady," Emma grins back at her, and Regina laughs again. "God, these meds are something else!" She beams at Henry. "Seriously, kid, you ought to try this stuff! I feel like that little leprechaun on the Lucky Charms box. Floating around on rainbows with his pot of gold and little shamrock hat. Oh, man, that'd hit the spot, wouldn't it? Some Lucky Charms. We gotta get some when we get home." Henry laughs at her.

"The only thing you're getting," Regina interjects, "is in the bed." She smooths Emma's hair back affectionately. "You've had a very long, hard night."

"Oh, I get what you mean," Emma smiles slyly and tries to wink at her, though it's more of just eyelids rolling lazily open and closed repeatedly. "You want to get me in bed so we can have an even longer and harder night. Alright, alright. Just let me get this cast on, and I'm all yours, beautiful." She throws her uninjured arm around Regina's waist and pulls her even closer, nearly into the bed with her.

"Emma!" Regina gasps, but she is struggling not laugh. "That is _not_ what I meant! You're going home and going to bed. As in, to sleep. You need to rest after all this."

"Lame," the blonde grumbles.

"Think of it this way, Ma," Henry tells her. "Tomorrow's Sunday, so we'll all be home all day. Since you're hurt, we can watch movies the whole time. We don't even have to leave the sofa all day." Emma brightens. "We could have popcorn for dinner."

"And Twizzlers!" the blonde grins excitedly. "Movie day!"

"You can have popcorn and Twizzlers as snacks," Regina says. "You'll have a proper dinner. Though, I suppose, I can allow you to eat it on the sofa, all things considered."

"Boo," Henry gripes.

"Hey, no, kid," Emma says. "Gina's right. We gotta be nutritious. Besides, she's, like, the best cook ever. Her food's way better than popcorn and Twizzlers." Emma's head falls against the pillow, and she looks up at a smiling Regina. "Can we do lasagna? It's my favorite."

"I don't see why not," Regina smiles at her.

"And I could make my famous ice cream sandwiches!" Henry says gleefully, and both the blonde and the brunette grimace. "Ma loves those, too, don't you?"

Regina worries a moment that Emma, in her drugged state, will tell Henry exactly what she thinks of his ice cream sandwiches and hurt his feelings. However, Emma, even heavily medicated, is as thoughtful a mother as ever.

She forces a smile that Regina is surprised to find actually rather convincing. Not convincing to her, but Henry could probably buy that. "Absolutely, kid. You know I live for those."

"Awesome," he smiles. "I saw a vending machine down the hall. I'm going to grab a bag of chips. Anyone want anything?"

"I'll pass," Regina says.

Henry looks to Emma. "Candy bar?"

"Actually, I'm good. I've got all the sweets I need right here." She beams up at Regina.

"Ugh, gross," Steven groans. "Henry, I'm going to the vending machine with you before my lunch makes a reappearance." The two boys exit the room, leaving Emma and Regina alone.

"This medication certainly makes you affectionate," Regina muses as Emma squeezes her hand and kisses the back of her palm.

"Nah, that's not the meds," Emma says. "I'm just super crazy about you." Regina's cheeks warm, and Emma scoots over in the bed. "Come on. Lay down with me."

"What? No, Emma. This is a hospital."

"Yeah, and we've got no clue how long we're going to be stuck in here." Emma sticks her bottom lip out. "Please, Gina. I really want you to lay down with me. I know you want to, too."

Regina looks down at her, and she tries to hold out. Really, she does. She tries to be strong. But Emma is looking at her with those round, sad eyes, and she can't withstand them. And she can't deny that the blonde is right. Regina does want to lie down with her. After receiving such a scary phone call, she just wants to be as close as possible.

So, sighing heavily, Regina places her purse on the floor and removes her shoes. Emma smiles brightly, sliding over more and turning down the blankets. Regina carefully lowers herself into the bed beside Emma, angling herself on her side. Emma turns towards he as well, and Regina wraps her arms around her just as she has wanted to do all night.

Emma sighs, resting her head against Regina's chest. She hears the steady rhythm of the brunette's heart beating, and it is the most comforting sound she can imagine. She can feel herself starting to fall asleep, her eyes closing and her breathing evening out. Regina rubs soothing patterns into her back in the way she knows Emma loves.

"Gina?" she asks without looking up.

"Hm?"

"Did you ever think this would happen? You and me, I mean? When we first met, did you think we'd end up together?"

Regina chuckles. "Not at all, no. I never imagined this could happen." She presses a kiss to the blonde's temple. "But I'm very happy it did. I'm very glad that we managed to see past our differences to find that, beneath it all, we're made for each other. Because I have never been so happy as I am now with you and Henry."

"Me, either," Emma whispers and pauses. "Do you believe in true love, Regina?"

The brunette smiles. "I'm not sure. Maybe. Do you?"

"I didn't used to. I used to think it was just stupid fairy tale crap that somebody made up to make the rest of us feel crummy. But now, with you, I think I do believe in it. And I think you're mine."

Regina smiles into soft blonde hair. "Well, if it does exist, then you are mine as well. Now, you should rest, darling."

"Okay." Emma yawn before burrowing closer to Regina, inhaling the perfume that she swears is the most wonderful scent in the world. "Gina?"

"Yes, Emma?"

"Remember when I told you about Neal and what he did to me?"

Regina frowns uncertainly before looking down at Emma. She is met with calm, serious green eyes. She doesn't look or sound upset or even distressed. "What brought that up?"

"Tonight," Emma says. "The guy I punched, Killian-he had this girl cornered. She was young, and she looked so scared. We both knew what he was going to do. And I just looked at her... and it was like looking in a mirror." Emma's lips pull down tightly. "And it made me think. There's no difference what Killian was planning to do the girl and what Neal did to me. It doesn't really matter if we were drinking or if he meant to hurt me. He still did it." She blinks, focusing again on Regina. "It was rape, wasn't it? What he did to me. He raped me, didn't he?"

Regina combs her fingers softly through Emma's hair before replying quietly, "Yes, Emma."

Again, Emma remains calm. She doesn't cry or react much at all. She just sighs. "I've always known it. I just never wanted to think of it like that. I didn't want to use that word. I didn't want to admit that it happened to me. That I was a victim."

"You aren't a victim, Emma," Regina assures her. "You're a survivor, and that is something to be proud of, not ashamed of."

Emma smiles sleepily at her. "Hey, you want to know something? You're pretty fantastic."

Regina smiles back. "You're pretty fantastic yourself. Now, you really need to rest a little, darling. You can barely keep your eyes open as it is."

"Okay." She settles back into the pillow, her entire body curling around Regina. "Gina?"

The brunette sighs. "Emma, you need to sleep."

"I know. Just one more thing, I promise."

"Alright."

"I love you."

Regina smiles again, looking down at Emma. "I love you, too." She kisses her lips gently. "Now, sleep."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am," Emma replies with a goofy grin before collapsing into Regina completely. It isn't another minute before she is snoring lightly into the brunette's chest.

Smiling to herself, Regina holds Emma tight and rests her lips against the top of her head. Not for the first time since meeting the blonde, she thanks whatever force led this clumsy, goofy, beautiful, magnificent, foolish, perfect idiot into her life.

And she can't help but smile because she knows that as wonderful as her life has been since she and Emma first came together, it is only the beginning to their spectacular story.

* * *

 _A/N: As of the moment, this is my fluffy ending for this story. Let me know if you'd like an epilogue. I've considered it-maybe to tie up some loose ends-but I'll let you all decide if you'd like a little extension or if you'd rather the story just end here. Thanks to everyone who followed along with this story and remained patient in the waiting. This has been so much fun to write, and I've loved every second of it! Big shout out to SweetSQ for sending me this prompt to begin with. This story expanded into so much more than I thought it would be initially, and I couldn't be happier with the end result! Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and especially the reviews. I love reading what you guys think about each update and story. This is my longest fic yet and has probably been the most fun for me to write out all the ones I've published on here so far. So, thank you for exploring this story along with me! :) (P.S., drugged Emma is the most fun Emma to write)_


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